The Temper That Almost Ate Manhattan
by Reinbeauchaser
Summary: What would it take for Raphael to finally gain some control over his temper? Hard to say and as I explore this idea, let's all see what I come up with, shall we? Oh, and I added a word to the title from its initial upload since it seemed to need it. 0
1. Fleas and Bowling Balls

_**Disclaimer – **Would be nice, but own them I don't. Anything in this story remotely resembling sixty-six inch tall terrapins wielding ninja weapons are the sole property of some guys in Northampton – whatever state it's in. Massachusetts? Anyway, they're not mine, plain and simple. This story is, though:0) Not a one shot, not even sure if it'll be a two-shot, but I really should be shot uploading it where I have so many other unfinished missives. Blame my muses; they've taken over my life._

**The Temper That Ate Manhattan**

by reinbeauchaser

**Chapter 1 – Fleas and Bowling Balls**

Once upon a dark and broody mood, there was an angry mutant turtle named Raphael. He would sulk and he'd slam, and he would grumble and he'd – well – whatever he would say, he was upset most of the time and made life miserable for his brothers.

But not more so than his father.

The sudden clamor of _something_ crashing hard against a wall jerked the rat from his dreams. His mind still thick with sleep, he wondered if the noise was part of his unconscious imagery. Then, he heard '_whateveritwas'_ disintegrate into a noisy rain of violently dismantled parts.

"Not again," he sighed wearily, wanting very much to hide under his covers, but knowing it wouldn't be very respectable. After all, he was a ninja master and should master his environment. Alas, that was not the case.

As the sound of destruction rang sharply through the humble sewer home, a long string of cuss words, best left to a more appropriate rating, came forth. The thumping and banging that followed might make one think a pachyderm had found its way through the maze of underground tunnels and welcomed itself in to the mutants' home.

But it was only Raphael being – Raphael.

Where they lived, though, their lair was a tiny collection of rooms beneath the streets of New York City. Unfortunately, they were tiny as in 'not large' and certainly as in 'not large enough'. And that was really a shame, too, because Raphael needed something bigger and preferably far from his family.

At least, according to everyone else – and especially to one who shared a bedroom with him.

As it was, they did not have this luxury, and so no one could find sanctuary from his verbal assault. Therefore, the cacophony of noise raged unchallenged through the obviously too-thin door of the angry turtle's bedroom.

In short, Raphael was in a toot.

"He's mad…"

"I gathered that."

"What about, Mike?"

"Don't know, Don, just - mad." Mike explained wearily as he and his three brothers stood before their father's bedroom door, huddling together for warmth. "By the time I went to bed, he was asleep…I think." Shaking his head, Mike shrugged, "Could have been faking it, though."

"What set him off?" Donnie asked rhetorically, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Like I said, no idea, but he tossed and turned a lot in his bed, I know that," Mike grumped, "I barely got outta the room alive!"

Leonardo then knocked lightly on his father's bedroom door, "Sensei?"

"Come in, my sons," a tired voice invited.

Soon, three very sleep deprived young mutant turtles stood before their father. After bowing respectfully, one of the three looked up and declared tiredly, "Master Splinter, Raphael is mad again."

"I am well aware of that fact, Leonardo," the rat nearly snapped, but still holding back most of his ire. As he sat on the edge of his bed, he pondered that it had only been seconds before when he had been peacefully dreaming. Now, to have his wondrous subconscious retreat torn from him by Raphael's angry outbursts made him a bit grumpy. Even so, he knew his son was upset, but he did not know the reason why. When Raphael had returned from his solo wanderings the night before, the turtle had retreated quickly to his room. Splinter knew there were times he could challenge his second son, but there were other times when it was best to leave him alone.

Last night was one of those times.

Michelangelo, Leonardo, and Donatello now stood before their father in his bedroom. With big tired eyes, they looked to him beseechingly. All three waited for their sensei's decision on how best to handle their brother.

"It's four in the morning, Sensei, how can _anyone_ find anything to be mad about at _four_ in the morning?" Leo grumbled, yawning despite his frustration. It was easy to see that dawn was going to come way too early for him. He sighed, really hating the fact that he was older and really, really, hating the fact he was leader, too. "_Being first-born,"_ he grouched silently, "_is greatly overrated."_

"Yes, Leonardo, I have to agree," the rat allowed, "Finding something to be angry with this early would be like trying to find fleas on a bowling ball."

"Can't something be done, though?" whined Donnie as he yawned, too.

"I've tried everything, my son," Splinter assured, stifling his own expansive gap with a paw.

"What about warm milk?" Mikey suggested and way too brightly, considering the time.

"Milk?" Leo asked dully, scowling just a little as he looked over at his youngest brother.

"Yeah, isn't it supposed to help ya sleep?" Mike's cheery voice caused both Don and Leo to cringe. Hearing anything cheery at four in the morning was waaay too early for them. Then, a long pregnant pause grew between the light-hearted turtle and his more subdued older siblings.

Finally…

Sighing wearily, Donnie managed to comment, "Milk can, if…someone _wants_ to sleep, but…" Another resounding crash bellowed from Raphael's room,"I don't think Raph wants to sleep right now, Mikey."

"Maybe I should speak with him," Splinter finally offered, realizing no one would be sleeping until he did.

Three heads nodded in eager agreement. All three brothers hoping their sensei might placate the temperamental turtle.

"Go back to bed, my sons, and I will deal with this myself." The rat then slipped off his bed and grabbed up his kimono. Shrugging it on and tying the sash in place, he grabbed his cane and prepared to leave the room.

"Splinter," Mike asked, his eyeridges pinched with concern, "I…_can't _go back to bed."

Sighing, the rat nodded, "Of course, you and Raphael have been sharing a room… take mine instead, Michelangelo, and I will sleep on the couch." Splinter soon slipped out the door and padded slowly down the hallway towards the bedroom in question.

As Mike prepared to hop into his father's still-warm bed, Leonardo grabbed him before he could, "No, Mike, _you_ take the couch in the living room. Sensei needs his bed; you know how stiff he gets on that old sofa.

"But," Mike protested innocently, "s'almost morning."

"Doesn't matter. Now, go!" Leo said sternly, pointing towards the door.

"Aw, man, it's not my fault Raph's trashing our room!" Mikey whined.

"Splinter shouldn't have to sleep on the sofa, either, Mike," Donnie added in agreement.

As the youngest grumbled about crazy brothers and unfair leader ones, he disappeared out the doorway. Soon, he was heading towards their small living area – and the couch.

Don then turned to Leo, "So, any clue?"

"Not a one."

"You sure?"

"As sure as my bandanna is blue."

"Okay, but it's really disturbing me the way Raph carries on like that, Leo. I mean, like you said…"

"Yeah, four in the morning, what could he be mad at?" Leo sighed, "Anyway, let's get back to bed and try to…" However, the sound of another item, this one exploding outside Splinter's room, brought them up short. This time, though, the noise seemed much closer and not nearly as innocent. "I wonder what happened!" Leo worried, and then both brothers rushed through the bedroom door to find out.

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	2. Admissions

**_Disclaimer_** – _Well, I added a word to the title, because it fit better with the theme. I'm wondering how many of you assume whose temper almost ate New York City, though? I think when you get to the bottom of this chapter you will have an idea or two. _

_In either event….No, I do not nor will I ever own the turtles – and it's no mystery who does. Enough said._

**The Temper That Almost Ate Manhattan**

by Reinbeauchaser

**Chapter Two – Admissions**

As Leonardo and Donatello rushed from their father's room, they found Raphael standing over Splinter. The rat seemed to be righting himself well enough, with the littered remains of what had been a radio scattered around him on the floor. Raphael seemed frozen in his spot, though, his hands still clenched, but his face showing a mixture of rage and surprise.

It was perfectly obvious to one of his two brothers what had happened, though.

"RAPHAEL!" Leo shouted angrily, rushing towards their father while glaring menacingly at his guilty brother.

Raph stood there, almost in shock, palming his hands up in surrender, his mouth working as if attempting to say something. However, no words escaped in that moment. Finally, though, after a second or two, he was able to stammer, "I…I didn't, honest! God, Leo, I would never…"

In the next moment, however, Raphael found himself horizontal in the hallway and on his back like the proverbial turtle in distress. Leo stood over him, breathing hard, glaring daggers, and with his right hand fisted. "How DARE you strike our _father_!" he challenged, his voice echoing as it bellowed through the concrete lair.

"NO! I...I…didn't, I…DIDN'T!" Raph insisted, rubbing his now reddening cheek, "You gotta believe me, guys, I'd NEVER hurt Sensei!"

Hearing the commotion, Mike charged back into the hallway and helped Donatello right their father to his feet. He then shot a threatening look at his roommate but kept quiet.

As soon as the master was vertical once more, he quickly reassured them, "I am fine, my sons," and Splinter dusted his kimono as he added, "I moved out of harms way just in time." He smiled then and, if he didn't have fur on his face, they would have certainly seen their father blush. "I _tripped_ over my tail," he explained, "Raphael did not strike me." Master Splinter then smoothed his robe out as he added, before looking down at his prone son, "The radio broke when it hit the wall, however, Raphael…?"

Raph looked positively horrified; his eyes wide and glistening with repressed tears. Still cupping his bruised cheek, he choked apologetically as he turned a mortified face to his father, "Sensei, I didn't know you were there, really, I didn't…I…was just… just…"

"Angry?" the rat interrupted, steeling his gaze at his son, still sprawled awkwardly along the concrete floor, "that much we all know, Raphael." Then, Splinter offered his paw to him, but Raph hastily waved it away.

"No, I – I can get up on m'own," the turtle insisted, soon rolling over and climbing to his feet. Now completely chastised before his family, "I…I don't know what to…to say."

"_Sorry_, would be a START!" Leo fumed.

Raph leveled a challenging glare at his older sibling, but then caved and nodded sheepishly, "Yeah, yer right, Leo." He looked towards Splinter again, "I am sorry, Sensei, I didn't mean…"

"I'm all right, Raphael," the master assured again, trying to smile just a little more, "but this is a problem that you've allowed to control you for far too long." Motioning toward his bedroom, Splinter invited, "My room, now, and the rest of you return to yours. Dawn is only a few hours away and I will _still_ insist on morning practice." He then turned on his heel and headed back towards his room, with a subdued Raphael following behind him.

As Raph passed his three brothers in the hallway, one of them whispered, "You are _soooo_ dead!" Mike smirked as he stifled a giggle

However, he failed to notice his father's turned ears.

"And you, Michelangelo, will clean up your room and the mess that your brother made!" the rat declared, "and before returning to bed."

"Oh, _man_!" groaned the orange-banded turtle, whereupon Don and Leo smiled but said nothing in reply. They had learned long ago never to underestimate their father's sharp hearing.

Unfortunately, they forgot how well their father knew them.

"And Leonardo and Donatello…" the wise master added, "both of you will help him!"

Another round of giggles spurted from Mikey as a duet of groans sprung forth from his two older brothers. "Hey, just look at it this way, bros," Mike's nauseatingly cheerful voice announced, "at least with your help, I'll get to bed faster!" He quickly slipped into his shared bedroom, though, missing Leo's rounding foot as it tried to smack him in the shell.

While his brothers went about cleaning up the disaster-laden bedroom he shared with Mikey, Raphael followed Splinter into his room. The rat went about lighting a few candles and then his incense sticks, before easing up onto his bed. He didn't have to tell Raphael what to do, as his son eased down on the floor as expected. Folding his legs in the traditional lotus position, the turtle hung his head dejectedly, sorely vexed with what he had done. He sighed once, then again, until his father interrupted him.

"Raphael, I forgive you."

Those words caused the troubled turtle to look up at his father. The young ninja's eyes filled to brimming with fresh tears again. But, as before, not one drop did he shed. He hadn't cried in years and he wasn't about to start now, yet he could not stop his eyes from pooling. He then shook his head in denial, "I could'a hurt you, Sensei, I could have really hurt you!"

Chuckling, the rat replied, "No, my son, you could not - nor did you."

Defiant to his father's assessment and thoroughly convinced otherwise, "_Yes_, I could; you never trip, you're never off balance, Sensei!" The turtle's expressive eyes were angry – more with himself than anything – but also fearful, too. For Splinter to trip, would be like Raph losing his shell. In his mind, his father was beyond such things. Yet, to see his sensei stumble the way he had, frightened the young ninja. It was obvious the master was getting old and the youth feared what that might mean.

"Do you think that I am perfect?" Splinter asked calmly.

Raphael wondered about that and had often complained how 'perfect' Leo tried to be, trying to be like their father in all things. It irritated the red-banded turtle to no end, too, because it always seemed like 'sucking up' to him. Yet, if Raph had to describe his father, his sensei, he would have to admit to seeing the aged rat as just that – perfect in every way. He was perfectly patient, perfectly wise, perfect in all ninjitsu, and perfect in always saying what needed hearing without wasting words.

"Yes," was Raphael's simple reply.

"Then," the rat sighed, "you are correct."

Raph's eyes widened a bit, his father's brief momentary confession surprising him. "What?"

Splinter smiled, "I cannot tell you how to see me, my son. I know that I am not perfect, but I also know that to convince you of this would be next to impossible." He reached forward and placed a gentle paw on his son's head, "Your opinion of me is your own, Raphael, and like many who see their fathers - flawless. And in whatever way you see me is for you to decide. I do not agree with you, but it is your rightness to decide for yourself what I am." He leaned back and added, "As it is Leonardo's rightness to decide who to emulate."

"I…guess," Raph shrugged, more confused than convinced.

"You guess? Are you not sure who your brother tries to take after?"

Snickering lightly, Raph admitted, "Of course I do, we all do. It's no mystery, Sensei, he tries to be like _you_."

"And that is his right, if that's what he wants." The rat then asked, "But I worry who it is you admire most and who _you_ are trying to be like."

Raph glowered for just a moment before stating, his voice less soft and more direct, "I'm trying to be me, Sensei, I don't take after no one. I can't, there isn't anyone…who…no one…um…"

"Who understands you?" the rat said gently.

Raphael locked eyes with his father for only a second before dropping his gaze to study the floor. His voice was uncharacteristically soft, "Yes."

"I see," Splinter said equally as soft. He allowed some silence to grow between them. He wanted a moment to assess his son's answer and especially in how to reply. During that time, he tried to discern Raphael's feelings and then thought about the many volatile outbursts the young ninja often displayed. Finally, something occurred to him, and his whiskers twitched in response, "It is this which disturbs you more." He sighed, "You know that I understand Leonardo, because he is trying to take after me. Moreover, although I do no understand most of what Donatello might say or the projects he is working on, I understand his curiosity." He smiled, then, as Raphael lifted his eyes from hearing these admissions, "And Mikey's mischievousness and love of life is like a balm to our reclusive existence. I might chaff under his hyperactivity, but it is this same energy that brings life and excitement to an otherwise depressing life."

Raphael held his breath. His father in his typically simplistic way, described his brothers 'perfectly'. He was certain that his father would admit, now, to his inability to understand him. Surely, he would, especially with what he admitted concerning his brothers. There was even a long enough interval to cause Raphael much concern regarding this, too.

Yet, what Splinter said next, surprised Raph far more.

"However, Raphael, your rage and your anger…" the master nodded just a little, "reminds me of - me, and what I was like just after our mutation."

"Say again?"

"Yes, my son," the rat sighed deeply, almost regrettably, "I had a temper so horrible, that it…nearly destroyed us."

**_A/N_** – _Rhetorically speaking, were you surprised:-P_


	3. A Numbing Tail Tale

_**Disclaimer – **Well, again, I'm powerless to stop the fact that I don't own the TMNT's. If I did, I'd share such wonders with all of you. _

_Most of this chapter will be Splinter's POV and told in the first person early on._

**The Temper That Almost Ate Manhattan**

by reinbeauchaser

**Chapter 3 – A Numbing Tail Tale**

Raphael shook his head, "No way, you're always patient, Sensei. Well – except for when me and Leo fight. Oh, and Mike's pranks," his face brightened suddenly, "and that time Mike laced your tea with some of that vodka he found in the sewers!" Just thinking about it caused a smile to edge the turtle's snout. He tried to control it, he really did, but it just kept growing, and growing, until…

A sullen voice interrupted his recollecting, "I was not amused by that, Raphael." Now, the rat seemed offended, "And your lie at the time about the tea having a 'special blend' of spices didn't help the matter."

Raph pressed his lips together to keep from smirking, realizing his father's disdain. He finally managed to say, "Yeah, I know. But we had to explain the taste and who would have thought just a little liquor would make you tipsy!"

"Rats are not supposed to drink alcohol, Raphael, there is a reason for it!"

"Yeah, you get tipsy."

"Enough!"

"Sorry, Sensei, but I don't think I'll ever forget that."

Splinter sighed and chuckled wearily, "Nor will I, I'm afraid and I'd like to, believe me!" the rat continued, though, "Nevertheless, I had a temper. And as much as I would like to forget that, too, I feel now is the time to share such things."

Raphael settled back a bit, knowing all too well that when his father slipped into 'story mode', it was going to be a long session. He just hoped his tail didn't fall asleep in the process. He absolutely hated it when that happened. Unable to feel anything, he couldn't control it, so it would hang loose rather than stay curled up under his shell the way he liked it.

And, of course, Mike couldn't resist and would end up making Raph the literal butt of his jokes. Raph could only hope that, whatever Splinter planned on sharing, there would be enough time to recover.

In any event, Splinter began his account…

"I know I have told you and your brothers about how I found you, about Yoshi and the horrible thing that Oruku Saki did to him and to Tang Shen. It is what fueled your training, to avenge their death and to bring honor back to our family.

But, I have never told you this, Raphael. Some of it might be familiar to you, but what happened after my master's death and shortly after I found you and your brothers will be new. It is during this interim when I felt anger for the very first time in my life. It is something I have tried to put behind me, but now I see it is important to share this with you. Especially after what almost happened this morning."

Raph's momentary jovial mood tanked and he lowered his head in shame. Splinter, however, tsked, "No, Raphael, I have forgiven you, please let it go."

His son looked up at him and sighed, giving in to his father's request, and then the rat continued, "Now, as I was saying…

"Before I found myself thrown mercilessly to the world and before that awful day when Saki came, I had been a peaceful rat. I never bit anyone or soiled where I should not. Compared to other types of pets, I was considered most civilized.

Because of this, my master and I were so close in our relationship that I knew when he was sad, but I also knew when he was afraid. When he took Tang Shen and myself and escaped from Japan, I was fully aware of his fear about getting away. A man, a friend, had threatened him. I was only a rat, and just six months old, so I could not understand all the nuances of human relationships. Although in human years I would be an infant, in rat years, at six months, I was nearly twenty. Still, even though I was ignorant of many things, and whereYoshi had me since I was two month old, I knew him very well.

As it turned out, New York City was a busy place for me and I was glad that my master had taken an apartment on a quiet street. Where we lived on the fifth floor, it was even more so.

We were happy living there and sometimes Shen and Yoshi would let me out of my cage. I loved climbing into the various cupboards and exploring the apartment. I would even hide behind the couch or even in their cushions! On more than one occasion, I had surprised Shen when she would sit down on the sofa. I would poke my head out from between the cushions and startle her. I always found that quite amusing. Still, she was always afraid of squashing me, so I ended up in my cage more often than I liked. I was a mischievous rodent, to be sure."

Raph smiled, "I bet you were a real pest, too."

Splinter raised one eyebrow and cleared his throat. Raph shrugged, "Sorry, couldn't resist."

"You should try harder to, my son!" Splinter admonished and then continued with his story.

"Nevertheless, Raphael, that fateful day came when Saki paid Tang a visit. Before I could even register who he was, for he did look vaguely familiar to me, she was dead - violently and without mercy. I had seen with my own beady eyes her death, and not more than a half-hour later, Hamato Yoshi's. During the ensuing struggle, though, Saki and Yoshi toppled my cage. The force of my cage falling to the floor broke it open and allowed me to escape. In response, I did my best to avenge my master and his wife's death, but failed, as you know. As it was, I barely escaped with my fur still attached, but not before the murderer sliced off the tip of my ear.

Still nursing my wound and after managing to find my way out of the bloodied apartment, I wandered the alleys, now lost and alone. Despite my situation, I felt somewhat placated with the scraping wounds I had left behind on Saki's face. It would be the only evidence of avenging my slain master and his wife. I truly hoped it would scar, further reminding the monster of his horrific deed. I even hoped that my actions would haunt his dreams the rest of his life.

Now, though, I had graver concerns. For the first time in my short existence, I found I had to fend for myself – and I was scared. I was also very angry. After all, I had been a respectable rat, a good pet, and had a fine loving home. I had been kinder and gentler than Yoshi's friends in Japan had predicted. After all, humans considered rats as unclean, yet Yoshi loved me and treated me like an equal. I felt that life had taken an unfair turn in my fortunes and I felt greatly resentful.

Nevertheless, although it hurt to find myself so rudely tossed to the world, the loss of my friend hurt even more and fueled my growing anger. It consumed me, the image of my master's wife so abused and then Yoshi cut down so cowardly; their deaths dogged my dreams night after night.

I soon learned to take to the shadows as I waddled along the edges of buildings. I instinctively slept during the day and at night, keeping to the darker areas the way my more wild relatives would. It was not a mystery to me why Yoshi had chosen a rat for a pet, rather than a cat or a dog. Rodents habitually and naturally stick to the darker areas of their world, if only so they will not become dinner to such animals. In that way, though, I shared a bond with my now deceased master. The shadow warrior and the ways of the rat are not too different, after all.

As it was, I learned quickly enough to recognize sounds that either put the fear of death in my heart, or a hope for a meal. Trash bins could often provide a feast, but in that way, I would also run across predators. Cats were my worse enemies, since they could climb as well as I could. I could run straight up a wall eight feet, if the bricks were especially rough, but a cat motivated by hunger can spring just as high! I learned very quickly how to survive.

And very quickly, my anger over losing my master and my home grew worse.

I was only a rat, though, and had very little power to exercise my rage, and so my all-consuming need to find shelter and food eventually overwhelmed my emotions. In any event, I found my way into the sewers, where the sounds of my own kind beckoned me.

However, there are ways among the wild population of rodents that is like a foreign language to one who is tame. Consequently, even my own kind rejected me. I was far too civilized, far too trusting, and where they lived from meal to meal, I was competition. In a very short time, I found myself as isolated as one can get and still be surrounded by their own species. So long as I kept my distance from them, they left me alone. This, of course, only added to my disparaging mood and I sulked more than I ate.

The image of Saki, though, kept haunting my dreams and I wanted vengeance! I wanted to pay back in kind what he did to my master and friend. I might have been powerless as a lowly rat, but in my dreams and imagination, I was unstoppable. I thought that at the very least, if I ever did find him, I would slip into his home and soil as much of his exposed food as possible. I imagined chewing through every cord in his house, every rug, every towel, every piece of furniture, but staying just out of sight and in the shadows so he would not see me. I knew about traps because in my travels I had seen the end-results of such horrific things. I could also tell good food from poisoned, so in that way, Saki would be powerless to stop me. Even if he did indeed succeed in killing me, the damage done to him would be well worth the effort. I would have my revenge and die an honorable death!

Nevertheless, the day came when I found you and your brothers. I did not know what you were at first, since I had never seen a turtle before, but it was a day that changed my life, and in more ways than I had ever imagined – even in my dreams."

Raphael looked shocked, "You…didn't know what a turtle was?" He seemed thoroughly offended.

Shaking his head, Splinter admitted, "You must understand, Raphael, I had spent my entire life with a human and in a cage, more times than not. There were ponds in Japan, yes, but I remember little of that part of my life." He smiled wryly, "Most of my time was spent in the dojo of my master's house, watching him work his katas and enjoying some of his tea, along with the rice cakes that Shen would make." Shrugging, the rat added, "You should be glad, though, that I was an intelligent rat and that I found you first!"

"Why's that?" Raph asked, "Oh, yeah, you rescued us…duh!"

Splinter looked at his son knowingly and wondered if he should tell him what almost did happen. After all, the wayward rat was starving at that time and it wasn't uncommon for his species to take advantage of any opportunistic meals – however alive they may be.

Instead, the master wisely decided against it, as he figured to add nightmares to his troubled son's dreams would be cruel.

Consequently, he concurred with Raphael, "Yes, I – rescued you."

**_A/N_** _I always found it hard to believe that Splinter – as a lowly rat – would know what a turtle was upon first sight. He's been a pet all of his life and a singular one at that. Also, most rats live only 3 years if that much, so at 6 months of age and kept in confinement, he would have led a very sheltered life._

_And_ _if you want to know in human years how old a rat is, a rat ages one year every ten days. That means, at one year of age, they are about 36 years old in human terms. That's why rats can breed at three months or even sooner, and repeatedly thereafter. It's what makes them enormously successful in thriving and why they are the bane of any compact city such as New York. They're like the energizer bunny, they keep on going and going and going and… _

_As for food – well – rats are omnivores, that means they can eat both protein as well as non-protein foods. Here is a site to confirm this, just in case you doubt me. Wonderclub(dot)com(forward slash)Wildlife(forward slash)mammals(forward slash)brown(underscore)rat(dot).html _

_Enough said._


	4. A Wet Towel Would Be Better!

**_Disclaimer _**– _Oh my, I can't believe it, with all the stories I've written – I still don't own them. Life can be so unfair. Also, get ready for ickies:0) Oh, and for all of you taking the time to review, hugs and cookies! Thanks! _

**Chapter 4 – A Wet Towel Would Be Better**

Splinter thought back to that day he discovered the baby turtles and how hungry he was. Up until that moment, he had found himself eating just about anything. After nearly two months roaming the streets and alleys of New York City, the rat had long given up feeling disgusted with his foraging. He realized that his survival became paramount to what he ate. Even so, the memory still bothered him. Dead cats, rotting vegetables, even his own kind – and only if nothing else was available – made the difference between life and death for him. He was glad those days were over with and even more so that he had mutated, but he wished that his memory of those dismal times had gone the way of his former self, as well.

Nevertheless, they hadn't and he had to rationalize years earlier that his life back then was desperate. In short, he had to see it as one would about something that no longer mattered. He was wise enough to know that to keep one 'foot' in the past, while the second remained in the present, would prevent him from moving forward with his life. So the master had left his previous existence, and all that he had done, behind him.

Now though, in his sharing, Splinter felt the full-force of what he almost considered doing when he first came across the four baby turtles. And because of that, he paused.

After a long, pregnant moment, "Um, Splinter? You okay?" Raphael queried in concern.

Shaken from his recollecting, Splinter looked up suddenly as if startled. He smiled thinly and answered, "Yes, Raphael, I am fine, just – remembering things is all."

"You sort of zoned out there for a moment," his son chuckled lightly, "not like you."

"Yes, you are right, but – recalling the past brought up things I have long tried to forget, but it doesn't matter now." He saw a questioning expression cross his son's face, almost as if Raph was trying to discern what could have possibly distracted his father. Quickly, the rat pushed on with his story, hoping to interrupt his son's discerning thoughts.

"In any event, when I found you and your brothers, you were all wallowing in a shallow pool of what we've termed as 'ooze'. The green mutagen glowed as if harboring its own light. Although that part of the sewer was dark, the luminescence from the ooze gave off enough illumination for me to see that you were babies." Splinter, once again, wondered if he ought to share what he thought of doing in that moment so long ago, and again steeled himself against it. "In any event, my civility returned and I forgot about how hungry I was. I felt compassion for your plight, for you and your brothers seemed to be suffering. Whatever this green substance was, it was hurting you." He sighed, "You made sounds of despair, not loud, but more like small squeals and tiny grunts." The master then looked past his son, as he remembered the moment, "I quickly noted that I would have to enter the ooze in order to rescue you. Considering your behavior at that time, it wasn't something I wanted to do, for I feared for my own life. Yet, the more I waited and the more I pondered what to do, the more you seemed to be suffering. I finally made up my mind, gathered my courage, and plunged in."

Raph was mesmerized. He and his brothers only knew about how their father rescued them, in that he had removed them from the mutagen. Splinter, however, had never shared what he thought during that time. This was all new stuff to the young ninja. His attention now fixated on his father's next words. In so doing, Raphael ignored his gradually numbing tail – and the random thought that had begun to form in his mind.

"One by one, I pushed you out of the green slime. Each time I entered the ooze, I felt the burning on my feet and my face, as I tried to nudge under your shells to leverage you towards escape. Each time I freed one of you and myself from the pool of green, I felt different, more – aware of things. My task became more important, now, than before, as if I knew what I was doing was the right thing. I didn't know it at the time, but the mutagen had begun its work on me and it had already begun with you and your brothers. You had obviously been in the solution far longer than I had, so you had more of a 'head start' with mutating."

"It burned…" Raph said, almost rhetorically and not as a question, "I kind of remember that, but it's not like I remember the feeling as much as I remember it happened. Kind of like a fuzzy dream, actually…"

"Yes," Splinter remarked, "but I suspect that where your species' natural level of intellect was on a different plane than mine, and where you were far younger than me, you're memory of the event will not hold much information other than that." The rat took a breath and continued, "Regardless, though, I did manage to free you from the ooze." He smiled then as an afterthought occurred to him, "You were all eager and excited, running around as fast as your little legs could carry you, seeming happy to once again be free. The ooze had a sticky ingredient, though, and it covered your feet, chests, and coated your face. Considering your heads were closer to the ground, where your feet were, I was certain you had accidentally swallowed some of the mutagen, too." Nodding, the rat added, "More than likely, this is why it affected us so severely, because in true rat fashion I cleaned all of you with my tongue."

Raph's reaction was one of shock and distaste, "Ew! You have…to be kidding me?"

Splinter softly replied, "No, I am not."

"But…that's disgusting!" Raph made a face, grimacing at the thought of his father licking him clean. "That's sooo wrong and on sooo many levels." He shivered then and rubbed his head, "You know, Sensei, you don't have to tell me about certain things, I'll understand, I really will."

"I have already kept much from you, but, I agree, I don't want to dwell on the basics. This is, after all, a talk about _my_ temper."

"Yeah, sounds more interesting, too, all things considered!" Raph agreed eagerly, squirming a bit as he felt the beginning stages of numbness growing over his poor, squashed tail.

"In any event," the master went on to say, "I herded you along, knowing the dangers that could befall you, given my own experiences. Fortunately, most of the other rats had pretty much ignored me by this time and left me alone for the most part. I didn't have too much fear about them discovering you." Splinter sighed, then, "Nevertheless, I found a can big enough for the four of you and myself to sleep in. Looking back on it, I realize now that it was one of those five pound coffee cans, empty of course. I positioned the four of you behind me in the back of the container, while I slept near the opening to keep you in and to defend you from any predators. Fortunately, I never had to, not until years later, when you encountered your first human, but that's a different story all together."

Raph raised his hand as a sudden thought occurred to him, "What did you mean, 'given your own experiences'?"

Splinter's nose twitched in that moment, his ears turned back insecurely, and he wrapped his tail protectively around his feet. It was all instinctive of course, but his father's physical reactions told Raphael that whatever it was that Splinter meant behind his words, it disturbed him. As the turtle processed everything his father had said up to that point, a sudden dread and an almost nauseating realization slammed into him like a wet and ice-cold towel.

With eyes wide in disbelief, "You…could've EATEN US?"

**_A/N _**_And_…_there it is. Had to do it, I mean, Splinter had already said in so many words how hungry he was, how he had to get the turtles to safety, to protect them from predators, and he mentioned his own kind just before that. Any intelligent mutant turtle – even Mikey (apologies to Mikey fans) – would figure it out eventually. Bwahahaha…this is so much FUN:0)_


	5. This Thing Called Intelligence

_**Disclaimer – **Nope, own them not. Not even a scute. Bummer. Can you just think what a TMNT scute could get me on EBay? LOL _

_Anyway, here's the aftermath of being too obvious…and I think that pretty much dispels the myth that Splinter is perfect, eh? Either that, or I've written him horribly out of character. _

_Either way, it did get an interesting reaction out of Raphael! Bwahahah_

_And hugs to everyone who's reading and cookies to all who reviewed! Thanks:0)_

**The Temper That Almost Ate Manhattan**

by reinbeauchaser

**Chapter 5 – This Thing Called Intelligence**

Splinter groaned inwardly when he realized his son had noticed his physical reaction. The look on Raphael's face told the ninja master that he was correct in how his son would react to knowing what his father had almost done – even so long ago. The rat realized he should have known better, too, where he had trained his son – and all of them in fact – to notice such things.

Aside from the more obvious threats from their enemy, Splinter had taught the turtles to discern body language, to interpret what someone wasn't saying. A well-trained ninja could be so astute with these matters of interpretation, it almost bordered on telepathy. It was only natural, therefore, that they would use this skills, albeit subconsciously, in less dangerous environments – such as with each other.

He could only moan then, when he heard Raphael's next pained question.

Sighing, the rat closed his eyes, wondering if it was just old age or if he had subconsciously wanted to tell him.

_Confession might be good for the soul_, Splinter thought to himself, _but some disclosures were better left unsaid._

The master seemed to be taking many deep breaths with this story and this time wasn't any different, "Yes, at first I wanted to, but…" he tried to explain, yet his son defiantly interrupted him.

"NO, I _cannot_ believe my own father would want to eat…" Raph protested almost too loudly, ready to stand up in defiance, but Splinter quickly interjected.

With a raised paw to quiet his son, "Raphael, you **_must_** understand, I was just a simple rat, doing its best to survive. Hunger will make even the most honor-bound person do many despicable things!" He looked sternly at his son, his gaze penetrating and telling Raphael that he would not tolerate any incriminating comments from him. He had done as much to himself years before and it was enough that he had suffered tremendous guilt because of it. "I have forgiven myself, Raphael, _and_ I expect the same from you. But remember what the outcome truly was. I _rescued_ you; I _chose_ to save you and your brothers. That is why you are here, sitting before me, and listening to me."

The horror on Raphael's face lessened just a little, as the truth of his father's word finally made some sense to him. _Yes, Splinter's right_, the turtle thought, _he did end up saving us. _"Okay, okay…" Raph said almost breathlessly, "I…ah…understand, but, it…just sounds so…"

"Wrong?" the rat interjected with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah." Raph might have had his breathing back under control, but he couldn't control the rapid beating of his heart. Just thinking about the horror he felt, imagining what his father could have done to him and his brothers so long ago.

It was the stuff of nightmares.

"Rats eat many things to stay a live, my son, there is very little that they won't eat, but I was _not…_ your ordinary rat!"

"Oh, and for that, I'm grateful, Sensei!" Raph finally smiled a little, feeling a bit relieved.

"I am sure you are, but, let's not dwell on something that didn't happen," Splinter then carried on, "Eventually, I managed to find a little-used room, more like a storage cabinet, where I brought you and your brothers. The four of you imprinted on me and it was easy to lead you, although it was a slow progress at best. Eventually, the changes from our mutation allowed us to walk upright, but this did not happen until shortly after we all moved into our first home.

"Overall, our changes took a while, maybe over a series of months, and our growth seemed steady, but through it all, I had maintained a certain amount of anger. Despite my growing intelligence and leaving behind my primitive way of thinking, I still remembered how I came to be in the sewers in the first place."

The master relaxed once more when he saw his son fall back under the spell of his story again, "After a short while, I found myself preferring to walk upright more often than scurrying around on all fours. I was not as tall then, as I am now, but I was definitely taller than what I had been before the mutagen. My size even caused the rats in the tunnel to fear me – and I took full advantage of it. My anger allowed me to intimidate them. I used it primarily to find food and take it back to you and your brothers, but I have to be honest with you, Raphael. The way in which I found myself homeless and my experiences in the sewers with how the other rats treated me fueled my growing anger." The master hung his head just a little as he confessed, "I…became their personal terror. Despite the fact that they were my kin, my own species, I did as much damage to their numbers as I could."

Raphael swallowed anxiously, wondering if he really needed to hear everything his father seemed wanting to share. Yet, there was an underlying amount of morbid curiosity, too. Just knowing that his sensei once had such a terrible temper as his intrigued the turtle greatly.

"In truth," Splinter recalled, "I feared that they might find you and your brothers. In the end, my surprise attacks and unwarranted war with them caused the rats to stay away from our home." Splinter sighed, "I do regret the carnage, but I do not regret the results, either. I have never invested in the idea that the ends justify the means, but in this case, I didn't see any other way to guarantee you and your brothers' safety."

Splinter paused for a moment, as if assessing what more to say, and then continued with his account, "However, when I saw the four of you begin to use your hind legs to walk upright, as I had been doing, I knew it was time to find a safer place to live. With my growing intellect, I realized that I had to have a door. On my foraging trips topside, I often saw many doors and they appeared to keep whoever was behind them inside, as well as those – such as myself – on the outside. The cabinet we were using didn't have one, save for the threshold, and it would have only kept you inside the little room had you remained on your plastrons. The bottom lip of the door jam was high enough to do that, but now that you were able to get around as humans did, it would not be enough to keep you safe.

"In any event, after finding our second home and with a door this time, each of you began to utter sounds that were beyond squeals and grunts. They were not words as much as they were experimentations of your developing vocal chords and I, myself, discovered the same with mine. Memories of my master soon rushed back to me, his words haltingly coming to my tongue. If my memory serves me well enough, I believe my very first word was 'koishii', a word that my master often said whenever he talked to me."

"Darling?" Raphael smiled. "I – kind'a remember that word, too." He seemed rather amused, actually, despite the word's definition.

"Well, yes, I called all of you that quite frequently, since it was one of the few I used in the beginning, but it also means beloved, wanted, and a few other translations. Yet it was obvious to me later on, and as my vocabulary grew, that Yoshi loved me as a beloved member of his clan." Splinter looked pointedly at his son, admitting with an emotion-free voice, "And my loss, again, intensified my inner rage."

"Regardless, though, I was doing my best to care for you and it was becoming increasingly difficult. That is, until I discovered a restaurant located near our home. The business was only a hundred yards from where we lived, with an alleyway behind it. They threw out much food in their dumpster there that afforded me many successful trips. It was a simple matter for me to climb up through a sewer opening next to the curb, into which runoff water from the street would flow. Conveniently, it was only a half a block from the restaurant. Fortunately, I was still small enough to slip out from the opening in the curb, but it was dangerous since it put me in full view of the street. So, I made sure that my foraging happened well after midnight.

"It turned out to be more fortuitous than just providing our little family with food, though. Because, one night, it was there that I saw…him." Splinter took a breath, as if trying to calm himself and it was then that Raphael took advantage of the pause.

"Shredder?"

Nodding, the rat replied, "Yes, but he was known then as only Oruku Saki. Still, seeing _him_ surprised me. I felt sure that Saki had returned to Japan, to gloat over his triumph with killing Yoshi and his wife, but I was obviously and sadly mistaken."

"What…did you do?" the turtle asked, knowing only too well the hatred his father had for his master's killer.

"I was torn; I wanted dearly to end the monster's life, but…" Splinter hung his head, "I knew that I wasn't yet strong enough to do it. If I were killed, then…" he looked up at Raphael, his eyes glistening, "who would take care of you and your brothers?" He shook his head, "No, as much as I wanted vengeance, I could not, and so I left him there and foraged somewhere else." He straightened up then as he continued, "And that is the way it would have been, had I not crossed paths with him a week later."

**_A/N_** – _No, this isn't going to tie-in with my recent Saki one-shot. I do have to say, though, that what I had begun to write with regards to the next chapter, did indeed spawn 'Flawed'. I had started chapter 6 in third-person, but then realized that Splinter is telling this 'story' from his POV and in first person. So, anything Saki might feel or think, Splinter wouldn't know about. So, rather than delete it, I decided to make something separate and, so, 'Flawed' was born. _

_In either event, chapter 6 of 'Temper' will be slightly different and hopefully justify its title. :0) _


	6. Vengeance Is Mine!

_**Disclaimer – **TMNT's belong to someone else, not me, sad to say. All other characters are mine. (Rein checks and finds that none warrant OC status. Blinks and realizes that no one belongs to her, except…the story) Oh well._

**The Temper That Ate Manhattan**

by reinbeauchaser

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**Chapter 6 – Vengeance Is Mine!**

Raphael yawned and hoped his father would finish soon. He was beginning to regret waking up and, most of all, throwing his hissy fit from earlier. Still, he was determined to sit where he was and endure the remainder of Splinter's story, despite the obvious lack of feeling in his rump.

Amazingly enough, Splinter's recollections had begun to intrigue him.

"So, ah, Sensei, what happened that changed yer mind about attackn' Shredder?" he asked, stifling another yawn.

Splinter hesitated to reply, uncertain about continuing to share his experience. Finally, with one cautious look at his son, he launched into the rest of his story, "As I said, I had decided to forego any attempt to avenge Yoshi's murder, where I was concerned about you and your brothers' welfare. My intellect was growing more each day and I knew, with some of my brief encounters with humans, that our little family would be quite unusual to them. If Saki killed me and if any sewer workers found you, your futures would be dismal at best. I did not know what they might do to you, for 'zoos' and 'laboratories' were not part of my understanding at this point. However, I had seen many humans with pets; much the same way I was to Yoshi. The sad thing was many did not care for their animals as well as my master cared for me. The thought of someone like them finding any of you chilled my heart and, so, I had pushed my vengeance to the back of my mind."

Splinter then eyed his son for a long moment, before saying, "One night, not long after I had first seen Saki, I had been scavenging through one of my favorite dumpsters and was in the process of climbing out of the large container with my bag. It was a good night's haul and I was seriously thinking of returning home. I had already been gone a couple of hours and wanted to get back to our lair as soon as I could. I didn't like leaving you and your brothers alone for too long and I usually limited myself to two hours and no more.

"However, just as I eased up over the top edge of the dumpster, I heard someone coming and so I ducked back inside. As I waited, a scent came to me that I found all too familiar. When I carefully poked my head out of the dumpster, it was then that I saw him. He was walking down a side street that ran across the end of the alley where I was. As I peeked over the edge of the trash container, I knew it was Saki. Even with the rotting food below me, I could smell it was him, for I would never forget his scent!"

Raphael's eye ridges sprang up then, "How could you tell it was him through that stench? Com'on, Sensei, I've been in dumpstahs before. As good at smellin' as my bros and I are, rottin' food overwhelms just about anythin'!"

Smiling, his father nodded, "Yes, for most creatures, but a rat has a very well developed…what is the word? Donatello told me once….olivertery? No, that isn't it…" Splinter furrowed his brow a bit and stroked his 'beard'. "Um…ola…tery…" and then the master smiled in victory, as he looked at his son, "Ohlahfactory gland!"

Raphael smirked, "I think you meant, 'olfactory'."

Splinter scowled a bit and was rather disappointed he had still said the word incorrectly, but then shrugged, "Whatever…in any case my ability to discern one scent from another was still quite sharp, just as it is today." He gave a knowing smirk at his son, as if implying a secret he had kept, but now seemed willing to share.

Instantly, it appeared to register quite well with Raphael. Almost in surprise, he gasped, "You mean, you can tell _who_ is _who_ without…_seeing_ us?"

"Yes, my son, and I guess my secret is out, now." The rat chuckled a bit and then continued, trying to ignore the startled expression on Raph's face, "In any event, where I was deep in the shadows of the dumpster, Saki was unaware of my observations. I did not know why he was still in New York, nor did I care. Whatever the reason, I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to execute some form of vengeance on my deceased master's behalf."

"What changed yer mind, I thought ya were afraid of…"

"Yes, Raphael, I was, but he was alone – or so I hoped." Splinter sighed.

"You didn't know for sure?" Raph asked in mild surprise, "You just said that you could smell well."

"Yes, this is true, and at the time I didn't sense anyone else. But, I was wrong." The rat sighed, "Or it was Saki's presence that distracted me. You see, my rage overshadowed my common sense."

"Um, what about your ninjitsu, couldn't you have 'sensed' that way?" Raphael asked.

"At that time, no…" Splinter smiled, not missing his son's mild shock, "Although I did watch my master whenever he would work his katas and I would even imitate him, nevertheless, I was still a rat, Raphael, not human. My physiology back when Yoshi was alive prevented me from becoming anything more than mild amusement for my master's friends.

"However, with my mutation, my body had changed enough to where I could begin the process of implementing all that I had seen Yoshi do. My increased mental awareness allowed me to understand all that I remembered from my days sitting in my cage, watching my master as he moved through his routines. Unfortunately, during the early days of our change, I was too busy trying to find food to feed us to start any formal training."

Raph was truly surprised, for he – as well as his brothers – had always thought that their father had _always_ been ninja, even when Splinter was a pet rat. Yet, the more the turtle thought about what his sensei just shared and what he, himself, knew about rats from those living in the sewer tunnels, it made perfect sense. Splinter might have been a simple rat, true, but he was a rat that went through an extraordinary event. Only with the changes forced upon him could he put into practice all that Yoshi had taught by example. Raphael wondered, then, what would have happened to him and his brothers if Splinter had not found them or had such an example as Hamato Yoshi.

"I would like to say that I was ninja then," Splinter sighed and drawing Raphael back from his thoughts,"but I would not be truthful, my son. My body hadn't developed completely until several months later and it would take a year after that before my ninjitsu came to fruition. Of course, during that time of change, I recalled as much as I could of what Yoshi taught me, if only by example – and it helped considerably when I was ready to train. After our mutation became complete and when I found a more reliable food source, I was able to put into practice all that I had learned from my master." Splinter smiled, then, "Amazingly, Raphael, I found my body matching my mind, eagerly accepting all that I had learned from just watching Yoshi. Again, my memory of him was very strong and for reasons that still mystify me today, I was able to recall in detail every move he made and every word of wisdom he spoke." The rat straightened up a bit, "I did improvise some moves where I needed to. However, when I made the decision how best to avenge Hamato Yoshi's murder, I knew I needed to master everything. How else could I train you or your brothers if I didn't even know the basics?"

"So, when you were first…teaching us…?" Raphael asked, quirking his eyebrows in curiosity.

"I was still learning," Splinter admitted, and then added, "I told you years ago during your ninjitsu education that many martial art instructors who teach children have senseis –what are known to them as shihans, a teacher of teachers. Although I am _your_ and your brothers' sensei, Raphael, if it were possible for any of you to father children, I would expect all of you to instruct them in the way that I did you. My role, then, would be as a shihan, someone who would train you to train your own children or students. It is all about progressing to the next level, improving on what you know." The rat shifted a bit on the bed and declared, "However, we are straying from the subject matter.

"As I said, when I saw Saki, I decided to take advantage of this opportune moment and exact justice for my master's death. The evening was especially dark, due to a heavy cloud cover, and my enemy seemed to be by himself. From what I observed, his mind was on anything but the alley and I knew he would not be expecting me!

"I slowly crept out of the dumpster, leaving my bag behind, and edged alongside a building there. At this point, my natural rat sense to tread quietly and the ways of ninjitsu melded as one. This part of ninja came easily for me. I was as silent as a vapor! I crawled on all fours to reduce my size, because by this time I was a good two feet tall, maybe even taller. If Saki happened to sense my presence, I wanted to appear as benign as possible. A two, or even three, foot tall 'rat' would alert him to something outside of normal, and I did not want to give myself away too soon. He was well passed the alley entrance by the time I came to it, but that didn't hinder me.

"I took my time, all the while keeping silent pace with my quarry. I was able to stay within the building's shadows as I slipped quietly along the sidewalk, keeping low to the ground, and gradually getting closer to him. At one point, he turned, suspecting someone of following him and I thought for sure he would see me. But, he was obviously far too confident and expected something much taller, so he ignored the shadows where I hid."

Raphael's expression took on that of one listening to an exciting radio drama. His eyes were large and fully focused on Splinter, while his mouth hung slightly ajar. It was obvious he was imagining the scene_. Splinter – smaller than he was now – creeping along on all fours, hunting after his prey, and taking his time._ Raph knew well how to track, himself. Yet to discover that his own father tried to avenge his master's death, and when he wasn't even ninja then, was more than interesting.

It was riveting.

"In any event, Raphael, Saki stopped and it was then that I saw my chance. He seemed to be deciding which way to go, as if he had changed his mind about returning to wherever 'home' was or where he had been staying. It had only been a few months since he had destroyed my life, so I thought he remained in New York because of other matters. In any event, I was mere feet from him and just as agile as any of my smaller relatives. With my unusual size and subsequent weight, I knew my prowess would make any Olympian long jumper turn green with envy. In my mind, it would be over before it started.

"Just as Saki turned, as if to resume his walk, I made my move and leapt towards him. During my assent, I focused on slashing at the back of his head, biting and tearing into his neck, and anywhere my claws and teeth could find purchase. My intent was to inflict as much damage as I could as quickly as I could – hopefully fatally - and then leap back into the shadows before he could react, if at all. I hoped he would fall, stumble from my surprise attack and his injuries, so I could resume my war against him.

"However, just as I left the ground and hurtled my body towards him - my teeth and claws bared, Oruku Saki turned. Instantly, he withdrew a wazikashi sword from under his trench coat. He quickly pivoted on one heel, faced me, and with a sudden rush, had his sword in the defensive ready position!" Splinter sighed, "It was obvious, Raphael, that he had expected an attack. I knew then, that I had made a grievous mistake."


	7. ManEater

**_Disclaimer – _**_I_ _only own the story, nothing else, it seems. Many thanks and appreciation to all who continue to read this missive and especially to those who take the time to review:0)_

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**The Temper That Almost Ate Manhattan**

by reinbeauchaser

**Chapter 7 – Man-Eater**

Seriously, Raphael thought for sure his heart would beat right out of his chest! Even though the protagonist in Splinter's story was sitting right in front of him, the turtle was still on edge with his father's account. Every story Splinter shared with Raph and his brothers had always grabbed their attention, except for when they knew a punishment soon followed. Then, they just wanted to get it over with and get on with whatever discipline the rat had in mind for them.

As it was, Raph didn't know if this story would end with such consequences, all things considered. Yet, if Splinter kept to his normal way of doing things, it would be punishment enough for Raphael, where he had sat for so very long. It was a given that by now, his tail was so numb, he could probably cut it off and not feel anything for a week.

Much to his woes, though, the turtle found the story stalling like the proverbial cliffhanger.

Splinter's pause did nothing but make his son more anxious, too. Raphael waited, watching his father and then he waited some more. Soon, he noticed a glazed expression wash over the rat's face, as if the master had become lost in his own account. Splinter's faraway look told Raphael that his father was apparently thinking about what he had just shared.

When Splinter had come to the point in the story where he admitted his error, it caused him to reflect a bit. He had always tried to make every decision and action count. The master had done his best to avoid making such costly mistakes as the one he had made so long ago. Even though he'd be the first to admit with being imperfect, to recall such a time where his anger almost cost him and his family their lives, seemed unforgivable. Yet, he also knew it was a story that needed telling, that is if his son sitting before him would ever understand the importance of self-control.

After a few more seconds, Raphael rolled his eyes and impatiently asked, effectively interrupting his father's train of thought, "Okaaay, sooo…what happened next, Sensei?"

"Hmm?" his father asked, seemingly unaware that he had stopped talking, "Oh, yes, I had made a mistake…and…" He paused again, wondering if he was repeating himself and to assess the next part in the story, but Raphael thought his father had once again drifted off.

Chuckling, the turtle remarked, "Yes, that's what you just said, but what happened _after_ that?"

"I'm sorry, Raphael, I must have become distracted," Splinter nodded and then took a breath to begin again, "Anyway, I had made an error in judgment and I found myself facing the sharp end of Saki's sword. I told you a moment ago that I had not trained yet in the art of ninjitsu. I did remember much of what Yoshi did, but had neither time nor the opportunity to put any of it into practice…until that very moment.

"As my body hurtled towards the man and as I came into his line of sight, the shadows no longer concealed me. It was obvious by Saki's immediate expression that I was the last thing he expected! If it were not for that, I very well might have died that night. Nevertheless, Saki's reaction was what saved my life."

Splinter nodded, as if confirming that thought, and then he continued, "Oruku Saki's shock caused him to turn slightly, but it was just enough to compromise his wazikashi's position. As Saki's body jerked in surprise to see such a large, oversized rat leaping up at him, his weapon angled away from me. Its new position allowed me to place my feet up against the flat part of the blade and propel myself away from harm, an instinctive move that was more than just species related. In that moment, Raphael, I felt _something _take root. My memories and my transformation became one in that moment. It was an exhilarating experience and an awakening that surprised me. Yet it would be several months before I could begin my training. Where we lived, there was very little room for such activity. Still, soon after my attack on Saki, though, and once we settled elsewhere, my interest to master ninjitsu was born.

"In any event, in that moment, my appearance frightened him and, almost as if I had an epiphany, I knew the reason why." Splinter hesitated again, but this time deliberately, as he cocked one eyebrow and waited to see if his son might understand the truth behind his words.

Raphael noticed the break in the story, but it was different from the last time. It was how his father behaved whenever he had a moral to impart, so, Raphael tried to answer the unasked question, "Because…you were big?"

Splinter shook his head 'no', but remained silent.

"_Great,"_ Raph mumbled, "_he wants me to play Sherlock, now."_ He sighed and tried again, "Because…Saki wasn't _expecting_ you?"

Splinter sighed, almost impatiently, "No, and I already stated that he wasn't."

Raphael furrowed his brow, thinking, thinking, and…thinking some more. Finally, his eyes brightened as he had a thought, "Because…he was afraid – of _rats_!"

"Precisely!" Splinter smiled and eagerly launched back into his story, "and I knew then that I had some sort of victory. My attack on him months earlier, right after he killed my master and Tang Shen, must have created an underlying phobia. A ninja might fear, but he never reacts to his fears. He is master of his environment and in that moment, I knew that Saki was not. He would, of course, overcome it, but not for many years.

"As I landed a few feet away, I turned back towards him, unwilling to cow to his size or be intimidated by the fact that he still carried a weapon. My anger now had a purpose and I was determined to follow its path, no matter where it took me. Knowing his fear, now, I planned on taking full advantage of it. I challenged him, snarling and snapping my teeth…and he cowed, if only for a brief second! Although fully exposed under the street lamp, I did not care. I could smell his fear and was half tempted to speak to him, if only to frighten him more."

"Did you?" Raphael asked eagerly.

"No. Once again, I knew I was already a thing of curiosity and if I did speak, I was smart enough to understand that humans would not rest until they had captured me. It was enough I allowed someone to see me. Even in my rage, I still worried about the four of you.

"However, Saki only allowed a momentary lapse in composure, because in the next moment, he had thrown his sword at me. I barely dodged out of the way, with the weapon lodging itself deep into a storefront wall behind me. I then charged at the man's legs. I was as big as a small dog, but because I was a rodent, my very uniqueness added to the man's fears. However, he managed to jump out of the way, using his ninjitsu skills, and cursed me, calling me a demon rat." Splinter smiled at that, "and for all intents and purposes, that is what I was.

"Unfortunately, in my anger and rage, I hadn't noticed the 'other' person, a female, and when she saw me, she screamed. She was obviously not ninja, but one of those women of the night I had seen on other occasions. I knew then that Saki had other plans that evening, and I had interrupted them.

"Nevertheless, with my quarry and goal so temptingly close, I ignored my instincts to run and hide. I continued my attack against Saki, snapping and leaping at his legs, confident my size alone would be enough to compromise his confidence. I remained on all fours, because it allowed me more traction. Still, he evaded me with each try - and all the while, his 'friend' kept screaming.

"In the end, though, I had to choose to continue the fight or flee with my life. The girl's screaming had attracted the attention of several people in the area. Before I realized it, no longer was Saki, or his friend, the only ones to see me! I was far too large for anyone not to notice me. Where I was a rat, the natural fear of the unknown alerted the crowd that something strange lived in their midst. My anger had clouded my judgment and now – I found myself in danger. More to the point, my foolishness had put my entire family in the same plight. Soon, a small crowd of people began to gather across the street, with my fight against Saki in full view of everyone."

"Wouldn't Shreddah be hesitant to fight like that, out in th'open and all?" Raphael asked, puzzled.

Chuckling, Splinter replied, "Under normal circumstances – yes. But, I was not normal and neither were my circumstances, Raphael. I was a very large – and very angry - rat, something that probably rivaled the myth about the alligator in the sewers. Saki was more in shock and acting surprised than thinking like a ninja. It would be his downfall eventually, of course, but that would not happen for many years.

"Realizing I had to escape, though, and before anyone came to their senses, I ran. I did what came naturally and slipped back into a storm drain a block away. However, some people were brave enough, or curious enough, to chase after me. It was quite frightening and it proved that I had made yet another mistake whose consequences could end our family. I should have never led anyone to where we lived, even into a storm drain. It was now obvious to those who witnessed where I went that I lived in the sewers.

"I tried to forget that event, knowing that Saki would probably avoid that part of New York, now, and that those living in the neighborhood would be on alert. As it was, a few nights later while scavenging, I was hiding behind some old boxes in an alley. I had sensed someone coming and so I took shelter there. It was then that I overheard the people passing by talk about how the city planned on conducting a thorough search of the sewers for the 'killer rat'. They had even talked about how city workers were baiting the sewers with poison!"

"Killer rat?" Raphael nearly guffawed. Yes, his father might have the ability to do such a thing, but he was not a _killer_ – at least not one that would warrant such a title.

"Yes, I'm afraid that was my moniker for a while," Splinter sighed, "In fact, I remember they talked about how I was so big, normal foraging was not be enough to sustain me. According to the humans, I was now a man-eater. I guess, considering my battle with Saki, I would appear as such." Splinter chuckled a little, but then became more serious, "In any event, I knew I had to find a safer place to live. Where our lair was located might have provided a more plentiful source for food, it was far too close to humans for it to be safe.

"In the end, though, I had almost waited too long. There was a moment when we were almost discovered, and I had to expose myself deliberately to the 'hunters' in order to draw them away from our home. It was then when I realized that my temper – my anger – would ultimately destroy my family if I did not gain some measure of control over it."

"What happened, then; did they catch you?" Raphael asked, yawning tiredly and completely forgetting the obvious facts.

Splinter sighed and said patiently, and smiled just a little, "Think about what you just asked me, Raphael."

Raph looked up at his father, his eyes blurry from lack of sleep and his body tired from sitting for so very long. Suddenly, it occurred to him what he had just asked. Grinning sheepishly, Raphael replied, "Heh, sorry, Sensei, guess I kinda got caught up in th'story."

Chuckling, his father nodded, "Indeed!" and then continued, "Anyway, I succeeded in diverting the hunters away from where you and your brothers were. The next day, after several hours of searching for a better well-hidden lair, I led the four of you to safety. It took me a long while because you were four very young and very active chibis, but after many hours, we arrived safely at our new home.

"After that, I doubled my efforts to be careful when foraging. It took some time, but eventually the novelty of an oversize rat living in the sewers of New York City wore off. I know that several large rats had found some of the poisoned bait, for their rotting carcasses had piqued my senses and led me to them. Although their deaths had been painful, I hoped their sacrifice would dispel the myth of a giant rat. In the end, I believe that is what I think happened. After that time, I hardly saw anyone walking the tunnels.

"In any event, we stayed in our new lair unmolested for many years, that is, until we were forced to move again. But that's another story and one that you are well familiar with, Raphael." Splinter sighed and seemed to relax a bit more…and then waited, watching his son intently.

Raph, recognizing his father was done with the story, looked wearily up at the rat and asked, "So, what you're telling me is…" he paused, then, reflecting on what Splinter had shared, "Is that if I don't get control of my temper, it could…destroy us?"

Smiling wide, Splinter answered, "As well as you, my son, but, yes, that is correct." Then, he asked, his voice soft and caring, "Might you share with me why you woke up so angry, Raphael?"

Raph looked away in that moment, suddenly remembering why he was in his father's room to begin with. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting, but it was obviously long enough to forget the event that found him there in the first place.

Finally, he muttered, "I wasn't asleep, Sensei, I was thinkin' about…how unfair it is that we have t'hide all the time. I…" he paused, swallowing a bit, and then admitted, "Case and I finished early last night and he wanted t'go home, but I didn't feel like comin' back to th'lair. I found myself wanderin' around, not havin' any particular place to go, an' after an hour or so, I…ran across a mugging."

"And…what did you do?" Splinter asked.

"I…didn't do anything, Sensei." Raph hung his head lower, now ashamed, "I left and…came home."

This was not his son's normal way of doing things and it bothered Splinter greatly. However, instead of chastising Raphael, Splinter simply asked, "Why did you do this?"

Raph looked up at his father, "It's all we're good for, Sensei, interruptin' these things, puttin' our lives in danger, havin' people we've rescued scream at us and throw things at us – even though we've _saved_ _them_!" He shook his head, "I'm so tired of it, Master Splinter; seems such a waste because these people keep puttin' themselves in dangerous places." He suddenly threw his hands up in frustration, "I mean, what reasonable person would walk through an alley? It's New York City, for cry'n out loud; what idiot would do somethin' like that?" Raphael's anger found new energy and it was obvious to Splinter that his son was greatly upset.

"Raphael," Splinter said softly, "everyone has a purpose. Just because you have to hide and because most of those you rescue can't understand you or accept you, do not let their reactions guide yours."

Tightness wrapped around the turtle's chest, now, and his breathing deepened, hitching once as his emotions swelled. Tears pooled in his eyes and he looked away again, not wanting to expose his feelings, even to his father. One tear did manage to track along his right cheek, though, but he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand.

However, Splinter didn't miss seeing it.

It was obvious to the rat that for Raphael not to intervene in the mugging disturbed him greatly. Yet, considering all that Raphael had just shared with him, Splinter understood his son's feeling of futility. Still, maybe in that way Raphael had learned a lesson. Although collateral damage was not acceptable or honorable, sometimes making mistakes, such as what his son had obviously done, did more good than not. Splinter then he told him, "Raphael, you must forgive yourself."

"I can't…I _can't_ forgive myself, Sensei! I _left_ him there, to get beaten up, robbed, and maybe even…I just…left him there…_helpless_!" He looked up at his father now, his eyes pleading and no longer weary. The inner fire that fueled Raphael's rage now turned inwardly, devouring the arrogance and confidence so akin to his personality. "How…could I have done _that_? It's not how you've trained me, trained _us_…I _acted_…" he swallowed, not even wanting to utter the word, yet seemingly helpless not to, "…_dishonorable_!" Raphael hung his head, now. His breathing hitched once more as another tear trailed its way down his cheek.

Splinter sighed and leaned forward. He gently laid a paw on his son's shoulder and in this way caused the turtle to look back up at him. The rat then implored, "Raphael, do not berate yourself like this. It is enough that you know what you did was wrong." He then questioned, "You made a mistake, yes, but I highly doubt you will repeat it?"

Giving an eager negative shake of his head, Raphael replied, "No, _never_ again, Sensei, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I start doing things like _that_ all the time."

"It is not what I trained you for, my son and your training is stronger than how you feel about rejection. Yes, you will probably face many more rejections, but it is far better to endure that, than ignoring those too weak to defend themselves." Splinter then sat back on his bed, smiling just a little, "Still, trashing your bedroom and waking the family like you did was not very productive."

Raphael blushed and swallowed, before shrugging, "No, I guess it wasn't."

"Indeed," the rat said dryly, "From now on, Raphael, if you are ever 'distraught' like that again, please use the dojo for such matters." He smiled, "Otherwise, I will have a longer story for you to listen to."

Raphael groaned and squirmed, hoping his tail wouldn't fall off, since by now he was certain all circulation in it had ceased.

Splinter then chuckled, "Tomorrow night, however, you will accompany your brother, Donatello, to the junk yard and find replacements for the items you broke."

Raphael groaned yet again, because going with Donnie to any junk yard meant packing back to the lair a truckload of anything his smarter brother deemed worthy. And if Don had an escort, he certainly took full advantage of them.

Splinter then said, "Come now, Raphael, it is late – or early, as the case may be – but there is still enough time to catch a couple of hours of sleep – and I was serious about morning practice!"

Although not surprised by his father's insistence to keep to their normal schedule, Raphael sighed then, "Don't know if I can sleep, Sensei," Raph admitted sadly, "I'm still feeling awful for leavin' that man t'get beaten up."

"Then I would suggest meditating once you return to your room," Splinter advised, "You cannot change what happened, my son, so it is best to leave it where it is – in the past. In this way, you can prepare for the here and now and for what may be tomorrow." The rat eased off his bed and, in so doing, gave his son permission to rise.

Unfortunately, Raphael was correct in on thing, that his tail was indeed numb. He groaned when he realized it, grating at the way his tail flopped around now. Still, at the very least, he was glad that Mikey was asleep and would miss the opportunity to tease him.

At least, he hoped so.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

_A/N – And now you all know the reason behind the title._

_Additionally, I know that some of you might see Splinter as a bit OOC, but keep in mind that this is early in his transformation. I highly doubt that he would instantly become a ninja master, especially where his body is making such extraordinary changes. I am also certain that Splinter made errors in judgment which showed him what not to do, as much as what TO do. Any good parent will learn from their mistakes, as well as successes, and use these nuggets of hard-earned wisdom in raising children. The problem is, many parents make the mistake of appearing 'perfect' and in that way, close themselves off from effective parenting. I have openly shared with my own children the mistakes I've made in life, so that they will know that imperfection is part of being human. I can no more expect them to be perfect, than they should expect me to. I believe that Splinter is wise enough to know this truth. _

_Also, Raphael might seem OOC, as well, with his admittance with leaving a mugging uninterrupted. Considering how he is concerning the human race, I think he might get tired of having to 'come to the rescue' all the time, especially if the only reward for his troubles is a lot of screaming. Yet, realizing what he did might weigh on him terribly – and cause him to react as he did in the first chapter. It's all fiction, anyway, folks, but, still, these stories take on a life of their own, don't they:0)_


	8. RESPECT

_**Disclaimer – **How much are those turtles in my story…how much money will they make me for free? Not a penny, or a quarter, not a nickel, or a dime…since they are owned by someone other than me!_

_And, that's it. Enjoy and thanks to all who are reading and for those who review:0) Be blessed._

**The Temper That Almost Ate Manhattan**

by reinbeauchaser

**Chapter 8 – R.E.S.P.E.C.T.**

Breakfast that morning was a quiet affair, with all members of the clan sitting around the kitchen table, bleary-eyed and sleepy. Soon after finishing his tea and toast, Splinter took his leave to meditate before practice began, leaving his sons to finish their cereal.

As their father disappeared inside his bedroom, three pairs of eyes turned to Raphael. These same pairs of eyes glared disapprovingly at him, yet no one said a word.

Raph, however, was far too sleepy to notice, though, and, so, finally, Leo broke the silence. "What got into you last night, Raph?" he demanded tiredly.

Raphael looked up from his bowl of cereal and gruffly replied, "Stuff."

"Just – _stuff_?" Mike grumped, "Com'on, bro, you trashed our room. Took the three of us thirty minutes to clean it up and I really resent the fact that you didn't have to do one _frick'n _thing!"

"Sorry, Mike, I'll make it up t'ya, 'kay?" Raph then leaned into his arm, wrapped protectively around his bowl, as his other hand spooned an overflowing portion of cereal into his mouth. Milk dribbled freely down his chin as he tried to ignore his brothers, focusing instead on his gradually diminishing breakfast. However, as a ninja, he knew when anyone was staring at him. He looked up then and, tired of their penetrating gazes, grumped as he wiped the milk from his chin with the back of his hand, "What d'ya want?"

Don knew that whatever it was bothering Raphael, badgering him would prove futile. "So, Raph, you gonna tell us what kind of _story_ Splinter told you?" he asked, as he chewed his breakfast reflectively, "It's obvious he did, since you were in his room for so long."

Raph shrugged, swallowing his bite of breakfast, and said simply, "Just one of his lesson stories, s'all; nothin' important."

"Sure took a long time for him to say something unimportant," Mike remarked as he quirked an eye ridge. "You were in there for almost an hour!"

Raph growled, "Just _can_ it, guys; I'm too tired to put up with yer questioning."

Mike's eyes sparkled suddenly as a thought occurred to him. "_Yes,"_ he mused to himself, "_Don's right, Raph was gone for quite a while and probably sitting long enough to…"_ He then asked, his voice all saccharine sweet and lilting, "My, my, we are defensive, aren't we?" He smiled wide, winking at his other brothers, as he asked Raph, "Did yer tail go…_limpy_, RaphAel?"

Raph glared threateningly, "No, it didn't, and if you don't shut yer mouth, Mike, I'll rip yours right off your..."

"Ooo," Mike interrupted eagerly, "I think Raphie's tail did go numb, bros. Did it flop around?" and then Mike suddenly leapt off his chair and out of the way as Raphael tried to grab him, "Yes, yes, yes…" Mike chortled, "I believe it did, yes indeed!" all the while trying to stay clear of his brother's murderous hands.

Suddenly, Raphael jumped from his chair and gave chase, with Mike screaming like a girl, racing around the table, laughing and staying just ahead of his enraged brother. Don and Leo tried to stay out of harms way, lest they catch whatever backlash missed their youngest sibling, but they couldn't help but laugh, too.

Finally, and after Raph caught his impish brother and made Michelangelo's head one with his cereal bowl, Donatello remarked, "I think you guys better knock it off, before Splinter comes out to see what's going on."

Leo added for good measure, "And I would clean this mess up before he sees it, too, otherwise you'll be spending the rest of the day cleaning the lair!"

Raph growled in Mikey's ear, "And another mess for you to clean up, oh brother dear!" shoving Michelangelo's head further into the now empty cereal bowl. The turtle then left the kitchen and his brothers. "See ya in the dojo, bros!" Raph declared. He looked back once and then chuckled when Mike freed himself from the bowl, the top of his head thoroughly plastered with milk and bits of soggy cereal.

Don looked up at his youngest brother and smiled knowingly, "Seems you enjoy irritating him."

Mike, his smile wide, took up a towel to wipe his head off, "Hey, gotta start the day off right, know what I mean? Besides, it's in our contract to bug each other." He shrugged, "We live a boring life, Don, what else is there t'do, anyway?"

Splinter had heard the ruckus from his bedroom, but he chose to ignore it, instead. After all his years living with four rambunctious teens, he had accustomed himself to their antics. Michelangelo would forever find whatever excuse he could to irritate his older brother and Raphael, just as eagerly, would reply with his own form of justice. So long as they didn't injure each other too much, though, the rat would allow it. He trusted his sons to exercise enough self-control by not inflicting serious injury.

Other than a few bruises, though, they teased each other as most brothers would.

Nevertheless, Splinter was relieved that Raphael had hesitated about sharing the story he had told him. In truth, it was a mild concern for the rat. He preferred to share his early experiences with his other sons himself, but he knew that they were closely-knit bunch. What one experienced, they all experienced.

However, where Raphael seemed reluctant to impart Splinter's early years with his brothers a moment ago, the rat relaxed and then slipped into his few minutes of meditation.

After his quiet time, Splinter headed for the dojo to await his sons. Soon after and much to the rat's relief, they filed in just as they did each morning, with Leonardo leading, Raphael next in line, followed by Donatello and then Mikey. The four turtles bowed to the mat, before taking up their positions.

As they did, the master quickly studied their body language and expressions, happily finding nothing amiss, other than their being a bit more sleepy than normal. His sons seemed as they always were, though, ready - if not eager - to expend some of their hyper energy.

Splinter then bowed in reply and released them to do their warm-up exercises.

The master continued to watch for any further signs that they might be distracted, or worried, but found none, and he couldn't help but breathe another sigh of relief. He had hoped that Raphael would guard what he told him, to know and understand that he had been a privileged audience.

So far, it seemed to Splinter, Raphael had indeed kept quiet about the story.

Then, each of them began their katas.

As always, Leo was perfect, Raphael was complaining and trying to best his older brother, Don was off in his own little world, and Mikey? Well, he was doing his best to goof off - without looking like he was goofing off – and failing miserably. Master Splinter had to remind him several times to keep focused, and that "_a ninja is master of his environment!"_

"Try telling that to my body, Sensei. I feel like I could sleep for week!" the orange-clad turtle complained.

"You must try to overcome these physical weaknesses, my son; for you might be called up on to go several days without sleep."

Raphael suddenly grouched, "Didn't know we were plannin' on joinin' the Marines, Sensei."

"Raphael!" his father declared, "you will now do ten extra flips after practice."

Raph growled and rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, certain that no one was paying attention, "I can barely feel my _arse_ and he wants me t'do flips?"

Mikey caught his brother's whispered comment, however, his voice half an octave higher as he teased, "Aw, poor Raphie's tail _did_ go limpy!"

The crack of Splinter's walking stick struck the dojo floor, interrupting the youngest son's ribbing, "Michelangelo, ten flips for you as well."

Raph sniggered quietly when he heard his brother groan, "Serves ya right, bro!" he whispered between '_yips'_ and '_kyas'_.

"Bet I can get Splinter to give you more flips!" Mike chided in the same quiet way.

Raph growled back a warning, "Not if you want to live to see lunch, you don't!"

In any event, things progressed smoothly enough in the dojo to belie the fact that anything had happened the night before – or even that morning.

The master's greatest fear was that Raphael would tell his brothers how their father's anger had put them in grave danger when they were so very young. The last thing the rat wanted was to lose respect in his sons' eyes. He knew it was every parent's nightmare to share such defining moments with their child, only to have the child resent the new, imperfect image of their parent. He hoped he had impressed upon Raphael that being perfect wasn't as important as doing the right thing and in an honorable fashion, even if it was after the fact.

As practice ended and after Mike and Raph did their ten flips, Splinter dismissed his sons. However, he vaguely heard Raphael ask Donatello something about using his computer. It wasn't a normal thing for his less-studious son to ask about, but the master shrugged it off and went back to his room. He had some scrolls to read and he wanted to add a bit more to his journal, to record his session with Raphael from earlier that morning. He always kept a diary of sorts, if only so that upon his passing, he would leave his sons with a personal account of his thoughts and feelings. He smiled, wondering how they would react to such insight and what he wrote in his journal. Certainly, there would be a surprise or two for each of them. Such are the memoirs of any parent.

………….

Raphael stared at the monitor screen. He read the article that he had found a second time, and then again, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, he was reading it all wrong.

Unfortunately, he wasn't.

"Um, Don?" Raph asked, not turning his head towards his brother. He knew that Don was fixing some 'thingamajig on his worktable, but, whatever it was, Raph couldn't say, nor would he try. It was enough that Don knew what it was and even better, that he knew how to fix it.

"_Everyone has a purpose, I guess,"_ Raph muttered, "_even if no one else has clueless what that is."_

Don evidently hadn't heard his brother, though, which of course only encouraged Raph to repeat himself, this time a little louder, "Hey, BRAINAC! I need ya here!"

Don jerked his head around as if suddenly aware that someone had been talking to him. "Yeah?" he finally asked.

"Gotta have yer opinion about sumthin', so I need ya to stop what yer doin' and get yer shell over here."

"Hey, it's not necessary to insult me!" Don complained, "I can see perfectly well from where I am!"

"No, you can't, ya gotta get closer so ya can make sure of what I'm readin' here."

Don sighed, put his tools down, and pushed his chair away from his workbench. He stood up and then wandered the short distance over to where Raphael sat in front of the computer. "So, what do you want to know?" he asked.

"Read this," Raph ordered gruffly, jerking his thumb towards the computer screen.

"What is it?" Don asked and then he saw the website on the computer screen. After he read it, he shrugged, "So?"

Rolling his eyes, his red-banded brother knocked on Don's carapace, "Earth to Don, our father's a rat!"

Donatello looked at Raphael and shook his head, still not understanding, "And again, I ask 'so'?"

Raph pointed hard at the screen, tapping the end of his finger against the glass, and jarring the monitor a little, "Sensei was once one of THEM!" He stared now at the photo of a simple brown rat, with all its attributes printed out next to it in nice, neat lines. "It says here that it will '_eat just about anything if starved; even chickens or frogs, or_…" Raph looked up at his brother, his voice soft and whispery, "_turtles_."

Don quirked an eyebrow and worked the inside of his cheek as he re-read the article. He then mulled over what Raphael had just said, and read the article again. Shaking his head emphatically, though, he swallowed and remarked as he looked at his brother, "It doesn't say that and beside, Raphael, no way would Sensei do that."

"Not now," Raph grumped, "but…when we were _little_, when he first found us in the _ooze_!"

Don became deep in thought about that. When someone suddenly rapped on the bedroom door, both he and Raph nearly jumped out of their shell in surprise. Raphael quickly positioned the mouse and moved the cursor over the minus sign, soon minimizing the web page. It dropped down and disappeared, showing Don's screensaver, just as Mikey opened the bedroom door. Both brothers breathed a sigh of relief, since they both thought that Sensei had come to check up on them.

"Hey, you've been in here all morning, Raph; what's doing?" Mikey asked as he stuck his head inside the room.

Raph looked at Don and Don shook his head as if to say 'no, don't, but then Raph turned back to Mike and waved him in, "Gotta see this, bro," and immediately brought up the web page once again.

Despite Don's attempt to keep him from coming further into the room, Mike managed to get around his brother anyway and sidle up next to Raphael at the computer.

"So, what'd ya find? Something interesting?" the orange-banded turtle asked.

That was when Raph said, "More than interestin', Mikey, ya gotta read this!"

As Mike finished reading, he shrugged the same way Don had and uttered the same "So?"

Sighing in exasperation, Raphael explained, "Our father is a _rat_, Mike…think about it…think about how small we probably were _waaaaay_ back when Splinter first found us. Think about how _hungry_ he might have been…" but before Raph could explain further, Mike had already imagined – and far to well, it seemed.

"YOUGOTTABEKIDDINGME?" he nearly yelled, and then he went unusually quiet, sitting down on the edge of Don's bed with a most horrified expression on his face. Breathlessly, he exclaimed, "Our sensei…could have…"

Raph nodded and finished that thought for his baby brother, "Yep, on the half-shell, bro!"

Mike could only stare at the computer screen, his eyes wide, his mouth dropped open in shock. Don, however, glared down at Raphael, who smirked up at his purple-banded brother. "One for all and all for one, bro – 'specially with somethin' like _this_!" Raph explained as he nudged his head towards the monitor.

"Ever think that some things might be better left unsaid _and_ unknown, Raph? You know how Mikey is after those scary movies…and he sleeps in your room, so I think you'd want to make sure he didn't know about this!" Don now had a smile on _his_ face, knowing that Raphael wouldn't be getting much sleep, not with Mikey's imagination going 'full tilt' for who knows how long.

Realizing Don was probably right, Raph grumped, but then sighed, "Yeah, but I don't think I'm gonna be sleepin' too much, myself."

Just then, Leo opened the door and slipped inside.

"Hey, who yelled?" he asked. He then saw the monitor, "What's that?" he inquired innocently, only to have Don suddenly wedge in-between his older brother and the monitor.

"Nothing, Leo, now get _out_ of my room!" Don said briskly.

Leo looked at Donatello as if he were some stranger. He asked, half-smiling, "Where's my brother and what did you do with him?" Then, "How come you're so defensive? If everyone else is in here…what're you looking at?" Leo craned his neck to see what was on the computer, but Don managed to block his way, using his arms and hands to that effect.

"You don't want to see anything, Leo, trust me!" Don insisted sternly.

Chuckling, Leo feigned one direction, acting as if he was truly going that way. As expected, Don fell for it, only for Leo to then swiftly spring into ninja mode and whip around the opposite side. Once he succeeded in getting passed Donatello, Leonardo made his way over to Raphael and the computer.

"So, what's…this?" he scowled. He looked over at Don, who seemed reluctant to say, and inquired, again, "I asked, what is this?"

A firm tap on his carapace brought Leo's attention to Raphael, who explained, "It's about rats, Leo…brown rats…the kind we have in the sewer…the kind…"

Mike interrupted from where he sat on the bed, sounding almost as if he were about to get sick, "that found _us_ in the _ooze_."

Leo perked up a bit, "Really? Cool. I've never even considered what kind of rat Splinter is," and he leaned over Raph's shoulder to read the article in question.

Don, meanwhile, realized his defeat and sat down on his chair by the worktable. He groaned because he knew how much Leonardo loved their father, how much he idolized him, how much Leo tried to be like Splinter. More to the point, he knew how much Leonardo was going to suffer when he found out that…

"NO WAY?"

Obviously, Don realized his older brother was able to add two and two a little quicker than Mikey or any of them had.

After a moment of collecting his wits, Leonardo asked Raphael, and not too happily, either, "What possessed you to even _look_ for something like that, Raph?"

Mike and Don perked up a bit, both of them as curious to Raphael's reason as Leonardo was.

Raph cleared his throat, then and, mindful of how sharp his father's hearing was, quietly related the story Splinter had shared only a few hours before. He didn't tell them everything, but only focused on the part before Splinter had mutated. "And during practice, I thought about surfin' th'net t'see if it's true, that rats will eat anythin'," he finished.

Of course, it disgusted them to find out that their father had first considered dining on them – even though Raphael did tell them that Splinter had tried not to admit to such a thing.

After a long, collected pregnant pause, Leo was the first to speak.

"I don't think I can _ever_ look Sensei in the eye again!" he moaned. He looked positively mortified, "How could he even _think_ to do that?" he asked rhetorically.

"He was a rat, Leo, and hadn't changed yet, but still…yeah, very unsettling to think about," Don allowed miserably.

Then, Mikey spoke next. His voice was far older in tone than normal and soft with uncharacteristic wisdom, "We have to remember, bros, Splinter did save us. He did NOT _eat_ us. We have to remember this, we can't think about how it _might_ have been. He saved us, he _raised_ us, and we are his sons," Mike stood up then, almost defiant, "We – have – to – keep – reminding ourselves of this fact and not what could have been."

Nodding their heads as one, the other three turtles agreed, but Raphael added, "But it does give new meaning to the word, _r.e.s.p.e.c.t,_ doesn't it?"

Three heads nodded in unison, but Leo still sighed, "I never would have imagined, though…" with three voices saying as one, "Amen to that, bro!"

_A/N – An epilogue will follow and then I'm done. :0) _


	9. Mischief

_**Disclaimer – **Yes, it's true. The only turtle I own is my plush sea turtle, sitting placidly on my PC desk. All other forms, mutated or not, belong to someone else. _

_Thanks to all who have read and reviewed – and my muses were extra generous, so one more chapter after this one! I promise. I would have made Ch. 9 the last, but it would have ended up way too long and – besides – I like how this one leaves off._

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**The Temper That Almost Ate Manhattan**

by reinbeauchaser

**Chapter 9 – Mischief**

Master Splinter had thoroughly enjoyed his time with reading his scrolls. They were something April had given to him only the year before on his birthday. They were an artifact she had found while spring-cleaning the basement of her second hand store. The storage room often yielded surprises of Asian influence like that and when April would find them, she would bestow the 'treasures' as gifts to the aged ninja master.

And, it always brought a smile to his face – like now.

As far as birthdays were concerned, though, no one in the clan really knew when their real one was, so they had all picked a month and a day that they liked best.

For Splinter, it was July 4th. It represented freedom and the country in which his master had tried to find shelter. Although hiding from Saki in the United States ultimately failed Yoshi, Splinter still felt affection for the holiday. Most especially because of the fireworks and, even more importantly, for the warm summer days the month brought with it.

After he read a bit, Splinter carefully rolled up the scrolls and returned them to their protective cylinders, then stood them along the back of his desk like obedient soldiers. Next, he retrieved his journal and eagerly launched into his writing. After an hour or so of recording his time with Raphael and jotting down a few extra thoughts, the master stood up and walked over to his bed to put the diary back under his mattress.

That was when he noticed something.

The lair outside his room seemed –unusually quiet.

"Hmm…" he said to himself curiously.

He then stood in the middle of his room, looking over at his bedroom door. He cocked his ears just a bit.

Again, he heard nothing.

He sighed and realized a cup of tea sounded good right about then. For some odd reason, reading and then chronicling his thoughts always made him thirsty - and a cup of tea seemed to satisfy it. Besides, when the lair was this quiet, it usually meant something had happened – and it was not always good. Despite the fact that his sons were in their late teens meant nothing as far as mischief was concerned. Therefore, any amount of sustained silence caused the rat to feel more than…uneasy.

With his walking cane in hand, Master Splinter made his way out of his bedroom and stepped into the hallway. He was about to turn towards the living area, and beyond that the kitchen, when he heard whisperings coming from the other end of the hall.

It was low, soft, and obviously from one of his four sons, and it was more obvious that whoever it was, they didn't want anyone outside the room to hear them. Splinter focused a bit more and soon recognized Leonardo's voice. However, he also sensed a certain amount of distress in his son's tone, causing the master a bit of worry.

As Splinter listened more, he realized that Leonardo's voice was coming from…Donatello's room.

"_How strange,"_ the rat mused, "_Usually Leonardo meditates before lunch. I wonder if…"_

Then, another voice seemed to answer or add to Leonardo's. Raphael's familiar gravely inflections came easily to Splinter's ears.

"_Hmm…equally odd,"_ the rat muttered, "_Raphael prefers to listen to his rock music after morning katas. Ah, but, yes, I remember, now, after practice hearing him ask Donatello about using his computer." _

The rat smiled a little, wondering if maybe his more temperamental son had learned something positive from his talk with him. Maybe Raphael was trying to find a more productive way of expressing himself and was now sharing that discovery with his brothers.

However, it had been over three hours since morning practice ended and Splinter knew that Raphael was _never_ that studious.

Splinter recalled that when his sons were younger, they often spent a good deal of time together. However, since they had become teenagers, they had drifted apart to their own specialized interests.

Now, to hear them together again and in one room had piqued the master's curiosity.

Determined to find out what exactly was going on, Splinter quietly walked down the hallway. He held his cane rather than used it, going ninja stealth. Soon, he stopped before Don's bedroom door. When he heard Michelangelo talking, the rat became even more inquisitive.

Even more so, when Mike said, his voice as whisper soft as the other two, "No matter what I said earlier, it's…still _disgusting_ to think about!"

The gentle rap on the bedroom door silenced everyone in Donatello's room. Don sat in his chair, with Raphael in the one by the computer, while Leo and Mike rested comfortably on Don's bed. Now, four pair of eyes riveted squarely on the wooden barrier.

An all too-familiar voice, deep and fatherly, called out, "My sons, are…you all right?"

Mike's eyes widened and Leo's breathing hitched once. Don sat where he was, quiet and reflective, but no more interested in answering than his other two brothers were. How long their father had stood there, possibly even listening to them, they wouldn't even know about it – until it was too late.

Finally, Raphael did the honors. He huffed once and then stood up to swagger over to the door. When he opened it, he asked in his usual brisk manner, "Yeah, Sensei?" and then, when he noticed his father's penetrating and curious eyes, Raph's voice became unusually soft, "Um, can I help you…with… somethin'?"

Splinter's whiskers twitched, as did his nose. He smelled – apprehension – and it worried him. Finally, he found his voice, "No, but I was wondering why all of you were so quiet."

Raph looked back at his brothers and then to his father again, "Jus'…visit'n s'all. You know, doing brotherly…bonding, ah…talk." He gulped, realizing how lame his excuse sounded and the soft groans from his brothers behind him confirmed it, too.

Smiling to dispel whatever they seemed concerned about, though, Splinter remarked, "Well, I was about to make myself a cup of tea, but I believe it is closer to lunch time. Whose turn is it to make lunch?"

Mike almost sprang like a bunny from Don's bed, "Oh, it's MY turn. I'll go right away, Sensei! Don't want you – ah – _US_ to get too hungry," he chuckled, bustling through the door and forcing Splinter to step aside. The turtle continued to carry on as he hurried down the hallway towards the main part of the lair, "Not when we have _soooo_ much food in the pantry, yeah, I'm glad we have April to make sure we _never_ run out of food, can't imagine not having enough _food_, know what I mean…." He continued chattering away, his voice trailing off as he disappeared from view.

Splinter watched him go, one eyebrow raised reflectively. He 'hmmed' a bit and then turned his attention to his other sons. "What is wrong with Michelangelo; he seems…nervous for some reason."

Leo looked to Raph, who looked to Don, who then looked back to Leonardo, who finally looked up at Master Splinter to explain, "Raph was…_cruising_ the Internet and…um…found something that kind of…_upset_ Mike, but he's fine, now, it was only some silly…hoax, an urban legend of sorts." He smiled big, then, but abruptly changed the topic with his next comment, "Well, I probably ought to get cleaning…um…the _weapons_, so if you don't mind, Sensei," and Leo quickly stood up from the bed and left the room, forcing the rat to step aside once more in order to allow another of his sons to leave.

Splinter watched him go, and in the same way as Mikey had. But Leonardo headed for the opposite end of the hallway, where the dojo was. The rat cocked his other eyebrow and wondered a bit. He then turned to Raphael and asked, "I assume this website also bothered…Leonardo?"

Shrugging and scratching nervously at his arm, Raph replied, "No…more than usual, Sensei, but – ah – I need to go do _something_ in my room, too; can't use up all of Don's 'puter time, know what I mean?"

And, as his other two brothers had done, Raphael couldn't get into the hallway, or to his room, fast enough.

This time, Splinter was more than curious; he was a mite concerned.

Don remained alone in his room, now, without a viable place to go to and with his father now blocking the doorway.

Worse still, because Don was the only one left, the rat seemed to focus on him a little bit more.

Donnie looked over at the computer and saw his screen saver up and running. He breathed a silent sigh of relief. Then, he worried. He couldn't remember if Raphael had dropped the web page down or if he had closed it out entirely.

He hoped for the latter, of course.

In either event, he realized he was all alone with his sensei – and with remembering what Raphael had shared earlier. Before he could say anything, though, he heard his father ask, "So, it seems as if your brothers are very busy. Was there something _you_ needed to be doing, my son?"

"What?" Don replied - startled, his father's question ripping his attention away from the computer, "Oh, ah, I was just _fixing_ this carburetor here for the cycle," he said quickly as he picked up the carburetor, "never know when we might need an extra one and it seemed like it was in good enough shape when I found it in the junk yard, only I discovered it wasn't working as well as it needed to be, so I've been trying to get it to work better and was doing just that when we all kind of got together to do some – ah – brotherly…bonding…talk…" Don's voice trailed off as he groaned inwardly. "_Why is it I run my sentences together whenever I'm nervous?"_ he sighed to himself.

"Anyway," he declared as he put the carburetor down and stretched hugely, and then stood, "I need to get out of my room for a while, anyway, maybe do some laps in the sewers. Yeah, that's a good idea…pique my appetite for lunch!" He thought briefly about the website, but dismissed it, confident that Raphael had indeed closed it out. Don also knew his father had very little interest in technology, especially where it concerned the computer. In fact, Donnie had even tried to interest Splinter in setting up an E-mail account some time ago, but the aged rat had chuckled and dismissed the offer, saying that using the phone was complicated enough for him.

Don eyed his exit and took his leave, just as quickly as his three brothers had done. The next thing Splinter knew, Donatello was heading for the entrance to the sewers.

Now, the rat found himself standing alone in his son's room and wondering what had upset them.

The rat furrowed both brows and 'hmmed' some more. He looked back towards Donatello's workbench and then…to the computer. He noticed the screen saver was still operating, the colorful bands undulating and pulsating across the monitor in a dance of vibrant hues. He took a few steps inside the room towards the computer and tried to remember what Donatello once said regarding it.

"_Something about moving the mouse…,"_ he recalled his son saying,"…_and then whatever work one had been doing will… reappear?"_

Curious, Splinter walked over to Don's computer and…moved the mouse.

…………….

Back in the kitchen, Mike whistled a little tune as he prepared lunch. He was busy making sandwiches, his back to the kitchen door, and so he didn't notice his father walking into the room. The sound of someone's throat clearing, though, brought the turtle up short and Michelangelo turned sharply around, obviously surprised.

"Oh, hi, Master Splinter!" Mike forced a smile, and then seemed to go into hyper drive, "I'm – er - not quite done yet, still have a few more things to do, but soon as I can get everything ready, I'll let ya know and then we can all eat, I'm pretty hungry m'self, ya know, can eat a horse, really, but – ah – we're not having - horse, we're…" he looked at the breadboard where was working, his speedy discourse slowing just a bit, "…having…_sandwiches_, with chips and soda if ya want, I would have sushi for you, but…"

"Enough, my son, please calm down." Splinter implored with a raised paw, "I am a patient rat; I don't mind waiting. I was just wondering what you were fixing was all."

"Um sure, no problemo," Mike feigned another smile, then a thought occurred to him, his eyes going wide with enthusiasm, "Wanna head start? You can have your sandwich first, ya know, after all, you're head of the family, our _lovvvving_ father, the guy who _raised_ us, uno numero _ninja_ and all that."

Michelangelo grinned wider, almost too wide, and it only caused Splinter to sigh in exasperation. He then shook his head, "No, my son, I will wait in my quarters. Call me when lunch is ready." The rat then turned around, his walking cane tapping against the concrete floor, as he made his way back to his room.

By the time Don returned from his jog, Mike had their midday meal all ready to go. Don went to alert Leo and Raphael, and as the three of them were coming back down the hallway, Splinter came out of his room. "Is lunch ready, my sons?"

Three pair of slightly wide eyes stared at their father for a second, and then Don nodded, "Yeah, lots of food, too, from what Mikey said," and then he smiled - big.

Splinter narrowed his expression a little bit. His sons had been 'smiling' way too much this day and he had all he could do to keep from rolling his own eyes with Don's grin. Instead, he nodded, "Then, by all means, we must take advantage of such generous portions!" With a quarter turn, the rat then led the way towards the main part of the lair.

Lunch was, like breakfast, a quiet affair, but not because anyone was tired.

More to the point, they were all on edge, everyone, that is, except the rat.

And the rat was fully aware of why his sons were nervous, too.

However, he decided to let the matter rest, hoping that one of them – especially Raphael – would confess to their little web-surfing discovery.

After everyone finished lunch, the four turtles went their separate ways, mainly to their own rooms. However, before they left, Splinter, announced that he would be going topside to visit with 'Miss Oneal'. He also informed Michelangelo that he would not need to make dinner.

"I will do the honors this evening, my son. I have something…special…in mind, something that I just _know_ you and your brothers will appreciate!" the rat said, a slight smile creasing his muzzle. Then, the rat slipped into the elevator and was gone.

Michelangelo didn't miss the expression on his father's face and, considering all he and his brothers had talked about before lunch, didn't miss the feeling of dread in his stomach, either.

After Splinter left the lair, Mike quickly headed for Donnie's room.

"Bro, Master Splinter just said he was to going to make dinner tonight!" Mike declared worriedly as he rushed in and closed the bedroom door behind him.

Don turned from his desk to face his brother, asking, "So?"

"He had – that _smile_ on his face!"

"Smile?" Don queried and then, "Oh, THAT smile!"

"Yeah, he's up to somethin', Donnie, I just know it. Like that time he was going to show us a special film about the 'birds and the bees'!" Mike groaned, "It's when he found Raph's stash of forbidden magazines! I honestly thought that Splinter was going to make us watch one of those x-rated films…and I think Raph was disappointed when it was…"

"Yeah, about birds and bees," Donnie chuckled, "And your right, Raph was pretty disappointed it was only a National Geographic DVD."

"I just know Splinter is up to something, Don. What if…" Mike became deadly serious, "what if talking with Raph this morning got Dad thinking about…_turtles_?" He nearly swooned, sitting down weakly on Don's bed. He then whined, "I mean, how do we know he hadn't eaten anything like that before finding us? Sometimes I think about pizzas I've had in the past and then…my mouth starts to water, I start to get hungry, and the only thing, the ONLY thing I want…is THAT pizza!"

Don shook his head, "I don't think Splinter will fix anything having to do with turtles, Mike. For one thing, it's illegal, and for another, it was green sea turtles and not the pet shop variety."

"Still, Raph said that Splinter almost ate us – back when we were babies," Michelangelo cried.

"Wasn't it YOU, Mike, who kept saying a while ago that we have to keep thinking, remembering what did happen?" Don sighed, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation.

"Yeah, but my imagination's not convinced!"

"Well," Don turned back to his carburetor, "just try and do something other than thinking about what you don't know. Splinter's a good cook, so whatever he fixes, we'll be able to eat it."

"If there's anything 'green' in whatever he fixes, I'm - not – eating it!"

"You don't eat anything that's green anyway, Mike," Don smiled.

"Exactly!" Mike huffed and then noticed Don's computer. The screen saver was still operating, so he asked, "Hey, did Raph close out that web site?"

Don turned in his chair again to face his brother, "I – think so. I took a run before lunch, after you and the others left. But…I really don't know."

Mike walked over to the computer and moved the mouse. When he did, he stood there for a moment and stared at the screen, almost in shock. Then, "Hey, Donnie, wasn't this website on – rats?"

Don had gone back to his workbench, so he wasn't paying much attention to Mike, "Yeah, I haven't bothered with it, yet. Is it still up?" he asked and then swiveled around to look at his brother.

"Well…" Mike nearly paled, "if it was, it's not on rats anymore, bro…" Mike eased down into the computer chair, slowly leaning into the monitor screen as if mesmerized, "You're not going t'believe this, but…" he began to say weakly.

Don, sensing his brother's distress, quickly moved out of his chair and walked over to where Michelangelo sat, "What is…that?" he asked as he noted the change of topic on the web page.

"It's – a recipe, bro…" Mike swallowed nervously, "And…it says here," his voice went up an octave, "that – ah – 'turtles' taste just like…_chicken_!"

Donnie just stared at the screen along with Mikey, not sure what scared him more. The fact that his father had used the computer - or the fact that Splinter had actually managed to find such a recipe in the first place.

However, Mike could only cry, "We're _sooo_ dead!"

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**_A/N _**_-_ _Goodness, is Splinter going to chop the guys into little bits? Is he going to make turtle tartar for dinner? Well, when chapter ten gets posted, guess we'll all find out, eh? Bwahahaha_


	10. Will Somebody Please Pass the Salt?

**_Disclaimer_** – _What to do – what to do, I don't own them, this is true. Do you? _

_Okay, this is it, the epilogue and the final installment of what was supposed to be a one-shot. _

_Really, it was._

_In any event, I hope you enjoyed the 'ride' and do feel free to comment. It's my only reward, other than the fun I have writing the guys into these awkward situations._

_Be blessed._

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**The Temper That Almost Ate Manhattan**

by Reinbeauchaser

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**Chapter 10 – Will Somebody Please Pass the Salt?**

When Master Splinter returned a few hours later, he noticed, again, a quietness that seemed out of the ordinary.

He smiled.

Carrying his grocery bags into the kitchen, the rat's sensitive ears picked up the almost indiscernible sounds of whispers emanating from one of the back bedroom. "_Probably Donatello's,"_ he thought to himself.

Once Splinter placed his grocery bags on the kitchen counter, he casually made his way back through the lair, into the hallway, and to his sons' private quarters. This time, he did not try to be quiet, but allowed his walking stick to make its usual 'tap-tap-tap' sound along the floor. He then stopped in front of Donatello's room. Although his son had the door closed, Splinter knew the others were in there as well.

He smiled, again.

Inside, huddling close together, four well-armed ninja turtles held their breath. Each hoped and prayed that whatever their father had planned for dinner did not include them – that is, as far as ingredients were concerned.

Nevertheless, it seemed so wrong that they believed they had to protect themselves from him. As it was, Mike had done an exceptionally good job of literally freaking them all out. Of course, the discovery of the recipe on Don's computer did just as much, too.

In either event, the four of them sat there in Don's room, anxious, yet ready for _whatever_.

"My sons, I am making a _surprise_ meal for the four of you," their father's voice called through the closed door, causing all four brothers to suck in a startled breath, "and I would appreciate it if you would stay out of the kitchen – until I call you to dinner."

And then, the rat left, leaving his four sons to ponder and agonize over why in the world he would make such a request.

"Well," Raph deadpanned after a long pregnant pause, "at least he said he would call us _to_ dinner."

Mike, still wide-eyed and concerned, "As if that's any consolation!"

Don wrapped a comforting arm around his brother's shoulder, "Mike, he could have said, 'for' dinner."

That seemed to placate the worried turtle in orange, but, just the same, he still kept his hands firm on his nunchuks.

An hour later and by the time Splinter called them, there had been many theories bandied about among his four charges.

Mike was certain 'turtle' in some form would be on the menu. He even placed a bet with Raphael, promising to do all of Raph's chores for a week if he was wrong.

Raph promised to do Mike's chores if he wasn't, but was pretty sure he was.

Leo refused even to speculate. The very thought of his own father 'dicing and filleting' a real turtle for dinner, even though it was highly unlikely, made the ninja in blue feel absolutely sick to his stomach.

"I don't care if we end up with pizza, my appetite's tanked," he groaned miserably.

Don shrugged, "Do you really think our own father would fix anything like that? Com'on, guys," he reasoned, "just doesn't make any sense." Still, he couldn't ignore the fact that, like Leo, the last thing he felt like doing now was eating anything Splinter might serve them. And he realized something that intrigued him. Despite the absurdness of the whole scenario, despite the fact that Master Splinter had taught them all how to protect themselves, Don realized the he and Leo had succumbed to mass hysteria! He could understand Mikey's reaction, considering his youngest brother had such a great imagination, and maybe even Raph. But for himself and even Leo to be so afflicted was almost – hilarious. Donatello would have chuckled out loud in that moment, but the brainiac knew that at least two of his brothers would not appreciate the humor of the situation.

So, the turtle in purple kept quiet and just tried his best to remain – reasonable.

After their father called them to dinner and as the four brothers filed bravely, but hesitantly, into the kitchen, they saw that the counter was clean and uncluttered. There wasn't a speck of evidence as to what their father had prepared. In either event, when they came out of Donnie's room, they had smelled a delectably delicious aroma! By the time they had made it to the kitchen and despite the imagined horrors on the dinner menu, their mouths were watering.

Even Leo had to admit that, whatever his father had prepared for dinner smelled divine!

Splinter noticed their weaponry. "My sons," the rat asked, slightly confused, "Is there a reason why you are – so armed?"

Leonardo shifted a bit on his feet and sighed, "Never know when we might get attacked, Sensei!"

"Yeah," Raphael added, fingering the hilt of his right sai, "Better safer than – ah – sorrier?"

Nodding approvingly, the rat allowed, repressing a smile, "Hmm…that is quite - wise of you to be prepared. Anyway," he gestured towards the chairs, "please, take your seats. I will personally dish up the soup."

"Soup?" Leo asked worriedly, remembering the website's recipe he saw on Don's computer.

"Yes, a – _special_ – soup, in fact." Splinter cheered, "I had Miss Oneal help me get the ingredients. There were some stores that I could not visit, even with my disguise, but I needed certain ingredients and she was most obliging to do the shopping." He then turned around and went over to the stove.

Four worrisome turtles looked at each other, wondering what store it was their father couldn't go into.

Mike mouthed "Pet store!", but Donnie shook his head and mouthed, "Don't think so." Raphael sided with Mikey, though, as he laid a comforting hand on his baby brother's shoulder.

Leo seemed caught in the middle, though, not sure which way to think. He eyed his father's back, as Splinter busied himself at the stove. The turtle sighed twice in quick succession, as if trying to calm himself. He then grabbed the back of his chair, determinedly pulling it out from under the table to sit down.

The other three did the same and soon, all four brothers sat at their assigned places. Now, four pair of eyes watched the rat as he took up a very large pot from the stove. Effortlessly, Splinter placed it in the center of the table. A ladle hooked securely along the inside edge of the pot, while the other end of the large serving spoon settled deeply into the soup. Steam rose greedily up from the over-sized container, with a wonderful redolence filling the room.

Representing each member of the clan, five soup bowls graced the table, placed and spaced perfectly around the well-worn piece of kitchen furniture. A soupspoon accompanied each bowl, with a glass of water to wash the food down. A single plate of towering toast resided nearby, each slice slathered with a generous amount of butter.

It all looked very, very inviting – if not for the imagined main ingredient!

Splinter then gestured for Leo's bowl.

Leonardo stood there stoic, staring up at his father, then the turtle glanced at his dish, and then back to his father again. He gulped, but obediently took up his bowl and handed it to the rat.

Splinter filled it generously with the hot soup and then he passed the dish back to Leonardo. The ninja master then repeated the process with the rest of the 'hesitantly-proffered' bowls his other sons gave him. When the rat filled his bowl last, he took up the large pot and placed it back on the stove. He returned to his seat, where he then sat down and picked up his spoon.

"What is it they say in France? Bon Awp'a'tee?" and then Splinter began eating, smiling as he did.

His sons, however, stared at the contents of their own bowl, each one looking up at the other and raising queried eye ridges. None of them really wanted to ask Splinter what he had put in the soup, although they were immensely curious about it, of course.

Realizing they very well could _not_ eat the soup without explaining why, Don was the first to plunge his spoon into his bowl. He was certain Mike's fears were unfounded. Donatello soon brought up a slightly thickened broth, overflowing from the spoon and plopping softly back into his dish. Filled with an assortment of finely diced cooked vegetables – and peppered with chucks of what appeared to be strange, whitish meat – the spoon screamed 'eat me'.

Don gulped, hoping that Mike was indeed wrong, that his father had not rediscovered a taste from his distant past. He closed his eyes. Then, slowly, he slipped the spoon filled with soup passed his lips. Don quickly closed his mouth around the end of the utensil. When he finally pulled the spoon out from his mouth and allowed himself to taste the soup, his eyes opened in surprise – and a smile creased his face.

"It's – good!" he allowed, somewhat shyly.

Raphael's eye ridge rose even higher, his voice quietly low and suspicious, "Good, as in 'tastin' good', or 'good' as in, not what we expected?"

"What would you be expecting, my son?" Splinter asked Raph calmly, yet knowingly.

Raphael had not meant for his father to hear him. He looked horrified at his sensei, now, realizing he had 'spilled the beans' about his and his brothers' concerns. He gulped, "Um, well…ya never told us what ya were makin', 'an so…we sort a discussed earlier…what it might be."

"Really?" Splinter remarked, taking yet another slurp of his soup. When he finished his bite, he wiped his mouth with his napkin and asked, "And what exactly did you think I was making?" He smiled a little bit more, now.

Raphael looked thoughtfully over at the aged rat. He then glanced at Leonardo, who seemed like a deer caught in headlights. Michelangelo coughed a bit and quickly took up his glass of water. He glanced over at Donnie, eyes pleading as he peeked over the rim of his cup.

Now, all three turtles looked to their smarter brother, all three hoping the brains of the bunch would have a believable answer.

"Well?" Splinter asked tersely, "I am waiting." He knew full well what his sons had been thinking. "_Urban legend, indeed!"_ he groaned quietly. Nevertheless, it was important for them to voice their concerns; otherwise, he would have to take measures into his own hands.

Finally, Don cleared his throat and explained, "Well, Sensei, that – ah – _urban legend_ Raphael mentioned? Um, it had to do with – _rats_." Suddenly, he lost courage to say anything more. The purple-banded turtle quickly took up his own glass of water and downed its contents in almost one long single gulp.

"Rats?" Splinter repeated calmly, "And what do rats have anything to do with my - soup?" He looked pointedly at each of his sons.

Donnie rolled his eyes just a little as if trying to think of what next to say, but then Raphael finally came to everyone's rescue, "I told 'em what ya told me this mornin', Sensei. They're all a little – surprised, is all, and – well, maybe I shouldn't have, eh?"

"No, Raphael," Splinter concurred, "You should not have. It is my story to tell, after all." He noticed a bit of relief come over his other sons, so he added, "I would have eventually told the rest of you, but in due time." He bowed his head slightly, "However, since it is now common knowledge, I must ask for your forgiveness for keeping secret my mistakes these many years."

Mike's attention suddenly took on epic proportions, his eyes slightly wide, "Mistakes? You…made mistakes?"

Splinter looked to Raphael, a sudden dread coming over him, "You did not tell them about…Saki?"

"Saki?" Mike remarked, "What about Saki and what kind of mistakes did you make?" He looked expectantly, now, towards his father.

"Yeah!" Don and Leo chorused together, as they turned eager faces to Splinter.

Raphael shrugged, "Sensei, I only told 'em how…how ya almost…ate us, s'all." He nodded towards the soup, "an' why we're all– a little nervous about…dinner."

Splinter groaned and shook his head to the heavens, before leveling a pointed glare at his son. He corrected sternly, "I did not _almost_ eat you, Raphael." The rat heard the other three breathe out long sighs of relief, unstrained and happy smiles finally gracing each son's face. Then Master Splinter added, a slight upturn of his mouth betraying his own brand of humor, "I said I only _thought_ about eating you!"

Instantly, the smiles disappeared, but the four brothers finally caught their father's mischievous eyes and his growing smile. They realized, then, that he was only kidding. They laughed a bit, with Mike slapping the table and declaring his father's joke one of the funniest he had ever done.

Finally, as the laughter and amused comments died down, Leonardo picked up his spoon to dig hungrily into his soup, followed enthusiastically by everyone else.

Between bites, Raphael finally asked as he gave a lopsided grin, "Hey, Sensei, this is pretty good! What's in it?"

"Why thank you, my son," Splinter bowed his head slightly, again, humbly receiving Raphael's praise. "I used chicken for the meat."

Mike laughed and grabbed up a couple slices of the toast and then dipped the corner of one into his soup. Tearing it off with his teeth and as he began to chew, he asked, "By the way, Master Splinter, what kind of soup is this?"

Before Splinter could say anything, though, Raph remarked sarcastically, "Mikey, Mastah Splintah just said he used _chicken_, so that would make this _chicken soup_."

"No, Raphael," their father corrected, "It is _not_ chicken soup."

Raph, Leo, Don, and Mikey all stopped their eating, turning towards their father.

His eyes sparkling mischievously, Splinter chuckled and simply said, "It is _mock turtle_ soup."

**THE END**

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**_A/N_** – _And there in lies what could be only the start of many sleepless nights and nightmares for our four heroes in a half-shell. _

_As a side-note, before it became illegal, chefs used green sea turtles in Turtle Soup. As an alternative meat, and especially when sea turtles thankfully became a protected species, calves head and/or chicken replaced the original main ingredient. Turtle Soup was thus renamed Mock Turtle Soup. _

_And, how many of you caught the Alice in Wonderland references here? This is not a challenge, but just a rhetorical question. For those needing to know – it was the phrase 'eat me' and 'mock turtle'. I had wanted to tag the end of this chapter with the Mock Turtle's Story, but decided against it, not because of FF rules, but because of its length. AIW is, after all, public domain._

_Anyway, thanks for reading and for any comments you care to share._


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